


The Better Half

by Mommadon



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Marichat | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 33,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25436191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mommadon/pseuds/Mommadon
Summary: After learning something important and personal about Tikki, Marinette determines she needs to get to know Chat Noir a lot better than she already does.  She may find out there's more to the black-masked hero than she'd originally thought--and her feelings for him may run deeper than she's willing to admit.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Plagg/Tikki (Miraculous Ladybug)
Comments: 294
Kudos: 435





	1. Kwami Lore

**Author's Note:**

> Hello dearest readers! 
> 
> If you're at all familiar with my writing, you'll know that I'm typically an action, drama, and angst writer with happy endings. I once took a stab at a crackfic that was a lot of fun, but noticed I was suffering from a severe fluff shortage on my works page. So, this piece serves to rectify that! I can't promise there will be no angst or drama, because I've got to do some character and plot building, but by and large this is going to be a cavity-inducing fluff fest centered around my most favorite ships. So, here we go... off on another multichapter adventure! Thanks for joining me for the ride!

“Tikki, power up!” Marinette called, tossing Tikki a lime-green macaron. Her kwami swallowed the thing whole before sprouting little fangs and glistening wings—which were surprisingly adorable on the typically harmless little bug. “Jungle Tikki, spots on!” Marinette cried, and caught a brief glimpse of her reflection in the almost-fully-overgrown bathroom mirror before she flexed her new claws and slashed through the vines that were threatening to turn her quick-change-hideaway into a jail cell. 

“I could get used to _this!_ ” Chat Noir chuckled as he exited the men’s restroom, now equally powered-up. “Take a look, Ladybug!” He flashed a wide grin at her and ran his tongue over his enhanced canines. Marinette would be lying if she said he wasn’t attractive—the jungle power-up had turned him into a black-and-forest-green spotted jaguar, with a thicker tail, fangs, and (Marinette swallowed hard), fuller muscles. There was only one way to prevent herself from fawning too much over her suddenly-ripped partner—flirt back. 

She tossed her loose curls over her shoulder, releasing her new antennae to roll up. She was already recognizing electrical signals from them—she knew precisely where the sentimonster had wandered despite still being in the Metro station several blocks away, but nevermind that now. She flexed her muscles, and in a display of foolhardy one-upmanship, she spun a hundred and eighty degrees and arched her back so her iridescent wings unfurled right in Chat’s stunned face. “Yeah,” she giggled, “I see what you mean. I’ll have to thank Wayzz for the new power-up!”

Ladybug effortlessly beat her wings and they picked her up off the ground. She heard Chat Noir moan from behind her, “She gets _wings?_ No fair!”

* * *

Marinette released her transformation as she dropped through the skylight into her bedroom. A bedraggled Tikki flopped on her bed with an exhausted little smile. “Tikki, that was amazing! That jungle power-up was something else! Flying? And those antennae? Wow!” Marinette tossed a strawberry macaron to Tikki and slid down the handrail of the stairs to the lower level of her room. She pulled the oval miracle box out of its hiding place and opened it up. Marinette touched the turtle bracelet and a green flash of light brought Wayzz out. 

“Good evening, Master!” he bowed to her. 

“Wayzz, how many times do I have to ask you just to call me Marinette?”

He smiled, “Is that an order?”

“Definitely not!”

“Then, Master, I trust the power-up was successful?”

Marinette rolled her eyes but smiled, “It was fantastic. Thank you for your help with the untranslated sections of the grimoire.”

Tikki was fully recharged now and flew down to give Wayzz a hug. “You know, there are some benefits of being the kwami of the Master,” she said. “Like getting to see my friends a lot more often.” Marinette smiled, but flopped on her chaise with a sigh. “What’s the matter, Marinette?” Tikki squeaked.

“I’m really grateful for the power-up, but that was still a really tough battle—harder by far than any other sentimonster attack we’ve had in the past. Harder even than the Ladybug clone Mayura sent at Chat Noir that one time. What does that mean? Is it going to be like this again? Should I recruit more people or look into more power-ups?” Marinette’s voice was accelerating and lifting in pitch. 

“It’s ok, Marinette, just take a breath!” Tikki consoled.

“Well,” Wayzz—ever the pragmatist—pitched in unhelpfully, “she’s not wrong. Mayura has grown considerably stronger, ever since Ladybug became the guardian.”

“Wait, is it _my_ fault?” Marinette wailed.

“Of course not!” Tikki hissed, glaring at Wayzz.

“Not directly!” Wayzz pressed on. Marinette bit her lip, which had started quivering.

“It _is?_ What did I do wrong?”

“Marinette, relax. Wayzz, shut up. Mayura’s stronger because the peacock Miraculous is stronger.”

If that was supposed to help Marinette relax, it wasn’t working. She sat bolt upright and cupped Tikki in her hands. “What in the world do you mean? The last time we saw Mayura was during that horrible battle with Miracle Queen. She was attacking Master Fu with a huge sentimonster. But she collapsed and Hawkmoth escaped with her—even Chat Noir couldn’t track them down. Then, we don’t see her for months. Suddenly, she’s back and the sentimonster is… well…”

Tikki shuddered, “I know, it was horrible.”

“So, what do you mean Mayura’s stronger?”

Wayzz and Tikki shared a meaningful look, before Wayzz started explaining, “You remember Master Fu’s story of when he lost the peacock and the moth Miraculous at the temple in Tibet all those years ago? Well, the peacock Miraculous was damaged.”

“What? How?”

“I’m not sure. There’s several things that can damage a Miraculous—Plagg’s cataclysm, forcing a kwami to join with a different Miraculous or a different piece of jewelry, combining or misusing power-ups, or if a kwami is ill when a user transforms, etcetera. I don’t know if the peacock Miraculous was damaged when Master Fu used it, but I do know that the next time it was used, it was in bad shape.”

Marinette’s face was full of concern, “What happens to you if you use a damaged Miraculous?”

“Nothing good,” Wayzz pondered, stroking his little chin. “That is probably why Mayura collapsed in the first place.”

“Wow,” Marinette gasped, getting to her feet and starting pacing. “But if she’s doing better now, what does that mean?”

Wayzz’s eyes twitched nervously, “I believe Mayura and Hawkmoth figured out how to repair her Miraculous.”

Marinette looked at her computer, where she carefully stored all the images of the grimoire and Master Fu’s translations. “But, only a Master can translate the grimoire, and the grimoire’s the only place that explains how to repair a Miraculous or heal a kwami!”

Wayzz looked worried, “That is true, Master, but Master Fu only got the grimoire when you brought it to him, from—”

“From Gabriel Agreste, yes, I know. I know he still has the book, but he doesn’t know what it is or how to read it. He just thinks it’s full of neat pictures of superheroes.”

“That may be true, but we can’t be certain what happened to the hard copy after you returned it to Monsieur Agreste. He may have given it away or sold it. And that’s not even considering the computer files Master Fu saved of all the images and translations he made. I tried to convince him to keep a secure vault for his work, but he insisted that computers were the way of the future. He put a password on his account, but…”

“Do you think that Hawkmoth was able to hack into Master Fu’s computer and steal the files?” Marinette gasped.

Wayzz shrugged, “Anything’s possible. But if what happened today in any indication, the peacock Miraculous has been repaired and Mayura is back to full strength.”

Marinette flopped on her chaise again. “Goody,” she grumbled. “Just what I need. _Two_ fully grown supervillains. _Two_ full-strength Miraculouses to track down and defeat.” Marinette flipped over and pounded her forehead into the pillow on the chaise. “How am I going to do this?”

“There there,” Wayzz tried. “When Master Fu couldn’t figure out the solution to a problem, he would drink some herbal tea and meditate. Why don’t you try sitting cross-legged on the floor while I count off breathing exercises?”

Marinette glared at him. “That’s hardly helpful, Wayzz. Tikki! What should I do?” Marinette looked around the room, but didn’t see Tikki right away. Finally, she spotted the red kwami sitting on the shoulder of Marinette’s dress form, with her back to the two of them. “Tikki?” Marinette repeated, “Is everything alright?”

Tikki turned to look at Marinette and wiped tears from her face. “Oh yes, of course everything’s—”

“Tikki! I’m sorry, what did I say?”

Tikki chuckled, “Nothing, nothing. You’re totally fine, Marinette. It’s just… I’m having a hard time being upset at Hawkmoth and Mayura repairing the Peacock Miraculous.”

Marinette’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “A hard time… being upset… you’re _happy_ about the Peacock Miraculous being back up to full strength?”

Tikki flew to Marinette’s knee. “It’s just that… I care about the kwami, you know? They’re my friends. Oh, I’m angry enough at Hawkmoth and Mayura and what they’re doing. Nobody hurts this city and gets away with it! I’ll fight them as long as it takes! But Nooroo and Duusu… I’m just happy they’re together and that Duusu doesn’t have to endure the pain of loneliness that comes from having a damaged Miraculous.”

Marinette looked between Wayzz and Tikki, “Ok, explain.”

Wayzz huffed, “When a kwami’s Miraculous is damaged, they can’t connect with any other kwami. I don’t mean they can’t see other kwami or talk to other kwami—they can do that superficially, but some of us are connected with each other more fundamentally.”

“Oh Wayzz, you make it sound so boring,” Tikki whined. “It’s really very special.”

Marinette gulped, “You mean, like… like…” she couldn’t get her mouth to say what her brain was thinking—it was too embarrassing.

“It’s not like human love, Marinette,” Tikki responded, reading her chosen’s mind. “The connections kwami have with each other are eternal and deep. You have your romance and love, we have something more… more special than that.”

Marinette scoffed, “More special than love?”

Wayzz rolled his eyes, “We wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

Tikki puffed out her chest, “Now now, Wayzz, Marinette understands a lot more of this than even Master Fu did.”

“Yeah,” Marinette urged, “give me a chance.”

Wayzz sighed, “Nooroo and Duusu have been a companionship from the very beginning. They are stronger together, they are happier together, and they find each other wherever they are.”

“Do all kwami have a companion?” Marinette asked.

“No,” Wayzz shook his head. “Though we all do enjoy being with each other. Kwami are always stronger together than apart.”

“How about you, Wayzz?”

The little turtle looked indignant, “I am happy serving my chosen and the Masters of the Miracle Box.”

Tikki turned away from Marinette, and that’s when Marinette began to understand why her kwami had been crying a moment earlier. “But you have a companion, don’t you, Tikki.”

Tikki shrugged and looked away, “It’s something we don’t try to talk about often.”

“Why not? If it makes you stronger and happier and all that, why don’t you want to share that with the world?”

“Because we can’t always be together, and I would never want you to feel pressured into being with the holder of another Miraculous if it wasn’t what you wanted. See, if we’re to fully connect with our companion, we need to be physically close, as well as emotionally and spiritually. The magic only works when we’re together at almost all times. Say what you will about Hawkmoth and Mayura; Nooroo and Duusu deserve happiness, and I know they’ve found it at last.”

“That’s definitely true,” Marinette pondered, but then she tenderly scooped Tikki up in her hands and stroked her kwami’s head. “Tikki, who’s your companion?”

Tikki shook her head and looked away. “I won’t do it. That’s too special, too close to my heart.”

It wasn’t hard to figure out, though. “It’s Plagg, right?”

Tikki stiffened in Marinette’s loose grip and started crying again. Marinette knew she was right. “Please don’t do anything about this, Marinette. Please just let it go.”

Wayzz flew over to console Tikki. Marinette knew instantly that she’d make no such promise. There had to be a way for Plagg and Tikki to have the connection time they needed. In the eighteen months since Marinette had become Ladybug, Tikki had never asked for anything. She’d always been incredibly supportive of Marinette and had listened to her chosen ramble on and on about Adrien, even though she knew that meant at least one human lifetime of being away from her companion kwami. The mere thought pained Marinette—why hadn’t Tikki brought this up sooner? Tikki’s self-sacrificing nature was sweet, but to another self-sacrificing soul, it was hard to accept.

Marinette got up, cleaned her room for a bit, then left the kwami alone while she went downstairs for supper with her parents. She watched her mother and father lovingly set the table and lay out the meal. She listened to the way they talked about their day, their little personal jokes, the way they reminded each other what was on the upcoming schedule. She watched their faces as they looked at each other and Marinette smiled. Her parents had always been a great example of love and commitment, and she wanted to find someone, someday, that she could have the same connection with. She’d always hoped that person would be Adrien, but if she was going to stay as Ladybug and stay the guardian for any length of time, Marinette suddenly realized that she was going to need a very close relationship with Chat Noir—for Tikki’s sake. It didn’t have to be love, Marinette promised herself fiercely. But she needed to get to know Chat Noir better. She needed to learn his ups and downs. She needed to make inside jokes that the two of them could laugh at. And most of all, she needed to get comfortable enough that they could be in the same building when he wasn’t transformed (she pushed away the thought of sharing identities—don’t get ahead of yourself, Marinette!) so that Tikki and Plagg could connect… whatever that meant. 

Marinette thought about Chat Noir’s lame jokes and goofy demeanor and all the times he goofed off during a battle. This wasn’t going to be easy. Then she remembered his softer side—the way he always encouraged her and was there for her (and an unexpected vision of his full muscles and jaguar spots flashed through her memories)… she could handle it. For Tikki and Plagg? She’d figure something out. 


	2. A (not very) convoluted plan

Marinette knew she was going to have to be very careful to avoid tipping Tikki off. Considering Tikki usually stayed in Marinette’s purse, the first order of business was going to be figuring out how to give Tikki the slip, without going so far that it would be dangerous should an akuma strike. 

“So, Tikki, wanna help Wayzz and me work on something today?”

“I’d be happy to help with whatever you need me to, Marinette!” 

“Awesome. I was going to mix up another batch of power-ups. I know Plagg prefers cheese, so we’ll need to get some of that. And then there’s some other ingredients we’ll need. Wait,” Marinette made a show of halting in her tracks as she walked to school, “Nevermind. I’m super behind in physical science… We’ll have to gather ingredients later. Shoot, I’m sorry!”

Tikki rubbed her chin ponderously, “Well, I could gather a few ingredients for you, if you need.”

“Really? But what if someone gets akumatized?”

“If Wayzz and I are working on it together, I’m sure one of us will be able to keep an eye out. And we won’t go hiding in the Miracle Box where we’re unreachable. I’ll come back at the first sign of trouble!”

“Oh Tikki, that would be excellent! I’ve got a list of ingredients—”

Tikki took the piece of paper Marinette fished out of her pocket. “Wow, this is really long, and a lot of these ingredients are quite rare. We might need to include Kaalki.”

Marinette waved off her concerns with a flick of her wrist, “Take all the time you need. The important thing is to get it right.”

“Ok, then. Even if it takes the better part of a few days? I’ll check in frequently, of course.”

“That’s perfectly fine. I’ll activate Kaalki’s Miraculous after school so she can help.”

“Alright, it’s a plan,” Tikki agreed, before nuzzling Marinette’s cheek and zipping off with the long, complicated list. Marinette felt sneaky, but she was determined to find out what she could about Chat Noir. She’d already decided to start by talking to Alya; the Ladyblog had interviewed Ladybug and Chat Noir in the past. It was as good a starting place as any, especially considering she couldn’t exactly transform and call his cat phone.

Marinette was on time for class that day, so she took a moment to set up her supplies on her desk. She took out her new pen—a glossy black one with lime green pawprints on it—and started doodling in a notebook. Other students filed in. Marinette didn’t even notice when Adrien entered, only when he started talking.

“Hey Marinette, are those cat ears you’re doodling?”

Marinette’s attention shifted to the boy in front of her so rapidly that she yelped, and her pen went flying. “Adrien! You surprised me!”

He laughed and picked up the pen off the floor, twirling it his fingers expertly. “Wow, this is a nice pen. Where’d you get it?”

Marinette watched him toss it, catch it deftly, then return to spinning it one handed. Seriously, the guy could have been a professional baton twirler if he wasn’t so amazing at everything else he touched. He started flipping the pen over his knuckles mindlessly, watching Marinette. She realized she was gawking at his skill. “Oh uh, what did you say?”

He laughed his glorious full-throated laugh, “I asked where you got this pen! It’s super cool!”

“Oh!” she squeaked, her eyebrows flying up to her bangs, “I didn’t…that is… I mean… someone gave it to me!” Yeah. Someone gave it to Ladybug in a box of merchandise pressed on her as a thank-you for an interview a few months back and Marinette had only stuck the pen in her backpack the night before, but that was neither here nor there. 

Now it was Adrien’s turn to fling the pen so that it went flying. “Someone _gave_ it to you?”

Marinette shrugged. “Y-yeah?” 

He blinked rapidly, “Oh, well, yeah, that’s good.”

Marinette got up and chased after the black pen, which had rolled under the teacher’s desk. Adrien followed her, and both of them reached the errant pen simultaneously, accidentally brushing fingers as they clambered for it. “Sorry,” Marinette gasped, blushing.

“Here you go,” Adrien smiled, pressing the pen in her palm. His fingers really were amazingly warm and soft. “It’s really cool. So, you’re a fan of the Chat?”

“Uh,” she bit her lip, getting lost in his emerald stare.

“Chat Noir? The pen, the drawing you were working on—you’re a fan of Chat Noir?”

“Yeah!” she almost shouted, “He’s, like, so amazing. I mean, he’s funny, handsome, smart, kind, what’s not to like?” Marinette knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t manage to shut up. She was talking to Adrien, after all, and she hadn’t stuttered and only barely jumbled her words the entire time! If gushing about her superhero partner was the way to have a coherent conversation with the hottie before her, then gushing it would be.

To her amazement, Adrien blushed bright red. Marinette didn’t even know his cheeks could go that color. “Wow, Marinette, that’s high praise, right there. Especially coming from you.”

She blinked in surprise, “What does that mean?”

“Just… nothing. I think Chat Noir’s pretty cool too. Not as incredible as Ladybug,” he mused with a far-off look and Marinette’s stomach gave a happy little twist—he thought Ladybug was incredible!— “but he’s pretty cool.”

“He came to my house for breakfast once,” Marinette prattled away as she went back to her desk, still proud of herself for not totally losing it.

Adrien’s eyebrow lifted in interest, “Really?”

She nodded, “It didn’t go so great. My dad got akumatized because he thought I was in love with Chat Noir and that’s why he invited him over in the first place, but then Chat Noir declared his undying love for Ladybug and my dad thought he’d broken my heart.”

Adrien paused and tilted his head, studying her carefully, “Your dad… your dad _thought_ Chat Noir had broken your heart, but Chat didn’t?”

Marinette shook her head a little too enthusiastically, “It was a big misunderstanding. But it’s all ok now.”

“Girl, you never told me that story!” Marinette jumped a bit. She hadn’t noticed the other students coming in; she’d been too engrossed in her longer-than-four-words-conversation with Adrien. That and the way his soft lips moved when he talked… Marinette smiled at Alya and Nino, who were taking their places at their desks.

“Yeah, but like I said, it wasn’t that big of a deal. But since then, I’ve always admired Chat Noir’s commitment. Even when Ladybug turns him down, he’s loyal.”

Adrien nodded, lost in thought, “Yeah, loyal.”

“Hey, Marinette,” Alya excitedly whispered, “I had no clue you were close with Chat Noir—”

“I’d hardly call a couple rooftop encounters, one botched breakfast date, and fighting off a supervillain or two _close—”_

Alya’s eyes popped wider, “Wait, you’ve actually done all that?” Marinette was keenly aware of Nino and Adrien’s eyes boring into her at this exact moment and shrugged. She really didn’t want Adrien to think she was _close_ to Chat Noir. Though, she noted with a pang, that was exactly what she was hoping to do this afternoon—get closer to the black-masked superhero. Thank goodness Alya pressed on before Marinette’s thoughts could spiral further out of control. “Do you think you could talk to him for me? For the Ladyblog?”

Marinette glanced at Adrien, prepared to turn Alya down. But the look on his face brought her up short. His eyes were bright and excited, and his lips had curved up in a little smile. “Sure, Alya,” Marinette responded, and Adrien’s grin exploded into a dazzling array of teeth and lips and joy. Marinette melted into her seat. “I don’t know how to get a hold of him, though,” she added mournfully. 

Adrien, still invested in this conversation for some strange reason, suggested, “Why don’t you put out a request on the Ladyblog, Alya? He’s bound to see it there.”

“Good idea, Adrien!” Alya grinned wickedly, pushing her glasses closer to her eyes and whipping out her phone to post on the blog. Mme. Bustier called the class to attention and the feeling began to return to Marinette’s toes. She looked at the pen in her hand. The paw prints _were_ super cute, she had to admit. And it was a nice pen—thick and hefty, and the ink was rich as it glided across her paper. She tried spinning it in her fingers like Adrien had and instantly lost control. Marinette ducked her head as the pen skidded across the desk, off the front edge, and right into Adrien’s blonde locks. The ringing in her ears was too loud to hear his gentle laugh as he returned the pen to her yet again.

* * *

By the time lunch rolled around, a rock of guilt the size of a bowling ball had settled in Marinette’s stomach. She was supposed to be getting to know Chat Noir, not pining after Adrien! She’d better just come clean with Tikki, she decided. She made her way to the cafeteria, grabbed a tray of food, and sat next to Alya. She inhaled slowly, preparing to let Alya down easy about the interview. It wouldn’t work, even if Chat Noir _did_ respond (which Marinette found highly unlikely. Her kitty wouldn’t do something as reckless as sitting for an interview with an unseasoned reporter without Ladybug by his side). Yes, she was just going to have to tell Alya that she’d been showing off for Adrien and hadn’t been serious about knowing Chat Noir. That was safest, and Chat wouldn’t be put on the spot, and she wouldn’t make a fool out of herself yet again, and Marinette would just have to figure out a better way to get closer to Chat Noir for Tikki and Plagg’s sake—but that could be done later. Right?

“Hey girl! I can’t believe it—Chat Noir already responded to my post! He’s in!”

“What the what?” Marinette gasped, dropping her tray to the table hard enough that her salad bounced ominously. 

“He’s game! He’s willing to meet with you for an interview!”

“Hang on now,” Marinette groaned, sitting and snatching Alya’s phone from her hand. She flicked through screen after screen until she found the private response:

_@OfficialChatNoir: Hey @Ladyblogger, I’d be honored to give your new reporter her first interview. If she’s available, have her meet me this afternoon in front of Collège Françoise Dupont, an hour after school gets out. I’m ex-cat-tic to meet her!_

Marinette read the instant message three times before dropping her head to the table and banging it over and over again. “This. Is. A. Disaster!”

“What? You said you knew him! You agreed to the interview!”

“I know,” Marinette whined, looking up at Alya and pleading with her eyes, “but I didn’t think he’d say _yes!_ I was just trying to impress Adrien and now I’ve got an interview with Chat Noir, of all people, Chat Noir!”

“What’s so bad about that?” Alya queried, spearing a tomato with her fork and chewing slowly. “It’s not like it’s a date or anything. Besides, I saw the look Buttercup gave you when you were talking about Chat Noir—he was definitely impressed.”

“But don’t you get it, Alya? Now he’s going to think that I’m in love with Chat Noir and he won’t want to step on Chat’s turf!”

Alya’s eyes rolled behind her glasses. “Please tell me you did not just refer to yourself as Chat’s turf.”

Marinette groaned, “You know what I mean. This was just a bad decision, and I can’t—” Marinette yelped when Adrien suddenly plopped down in the seat beside her. “Adrien! I thought you were eating at home today?”

He took a large bite of food and grinned while he chewed, “Nope, Father’s busy with a big business deal and wants the mansion to himself for the next few days.”

Alya eyed him suspiciously, “Your dad is booting you from the house for a few days and… and you’re smiling about it?”

Adrien shrugged, “It means I get to set my own schedule, hang out with friends, what’s not to like? I mean, I can still go home, if that’s what you’re thinking. I don’t have to sleep on the street.” He laughed, so Marinette laughed. “So, did you hear back from Chat Noir yet?”

“Yeah, actually!” Alya bounced with excitement, “He’s available this afternoon for an interview! But I don’t know if Marinette’s going to go through with it.”

“What, why?” Adrien pouted, turning the full force of his gorgeous, plaintive eyes on her. 

Marinette shrunk into her plate of salad, cheeks red. “I don’t want him to get the wrong impression,” she muttered. 

Adrien bumped her shoulder with his (she shivered in surprise), “He already knows you’re not in love with him, Marinette. Would you really deny the guy an afternoon with a friend, talking about himself?”

Marinette pictured Chat Noir flexing while balancing on the tip of his staff. “You’re right, that _is_ his favorite subject…”

Alya snorted as Adrien choked. “Impressive jab, Marinette,” Alya guffawed. “Once again, I’m shocked by how well you know Chat Noir, without being totally obsessed with him, like all the other girls in Paris. You’re _definitely_ the right person for the interview.”

“Wait,” Adrien held up a hand and looked desperately between Alya and Marinette, “obsessed? All the girls in Paris are obsessed with Chat Noir?”

Alya shook her head pitifully, “Don’t tell me that Adrien Agreste, perhaps the only person with a bigger female fan club than Chat Noir, is _jealous?_ ”

Adrien blinked rapidly, then flashed a Cheshire-cat grin, “Not jealous, nope.”

“Well,” Alya pressed on, “if Marinette can banter with Chat like she just demonstrated, she’s got a viral post in the making. Everyone is dying to know more about the mysterious black cat. He _never_ agrees to interviews without Ladybug by his side. It’s so exciting to get a new take on him. Please, Marinette, please do it?’

Adrien leaned in closer, “I think Chat Noir would be paw-sitively heartbroken to miss out on an afternoon with you. At least, I know I would be.”

“Ok, fine I’ll do it!” Marinette smiled. 

“Awesome! I’ll write up a list of questions!” Alya whooped.

“Oooh!” Adrien pumped his fists up and down, “You should ask him if he has fuzzy Ladybug pajamas!”

“What?” Marinette gasped, “Why would he have fuzzy Ladybug pajamas?”

Adrien dropped his fork, shrugged, and muttered, “I mean… I do…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love and support! Posting a new fic is always a scary prospect, but your kind words and kudos mean the world, and encourage me to keep writing.


	3. Interview

Marinette was still trying to talk herself out of doing the interview as she paced in front of the school. She may have originally said yes because Adrien had asked her—twice—but it was Tikki that she really didn’t want to disappoint. Which was ludicrous, Marinette berated herself—Tikki didn’t even know about the interview! If she turned and booked it for the safety of her bedroom right now, Tikki would never know! But _she_ would know. Marinette would always have that nagging guilt that she’d had the chance to learn more about Chat Noir and maybe strike up a friendship with him. She’d know that she’d chickened out of her chance to bring the owner of the black cat Miraculous and the ladybug Miraculous closer. Tikki would forgive her, but she could never forgive herself.

“Marinette,” she whispered aloud, “you’re being stupid. It’s just an interview with Chat Noir. It’s really not a big deal. He might not even show up! He probably was just trolling Alya. Or it could have been a scammer!”

“Do you really think so little of me?” a familiar voice said from behind her, causing her to jump and wheel around, hands flying so violently that one of them smacked Chat Noir in the face. “Ow!” he yelped, pressing a gloved hand to the red spot on his cheek.

“Oh! Chat Noir, I’m so sorry! You surprised me, is all! Oh, I’m such a klutz. Do you need ice or anything?”

He laughed and gently probed the place where she’d hit him. “I’ve had worse, promise.”

She pressed her palms into her eyelids and shook her head, “You must think I’m the worst,” she wailed.

“Marinette,” he crooned, his voice going velvet soft and his hands tenderly pulling her wrists away from her face, “I promise, I do _not_ think you’re the worst.” She bit her lip and forced herself to meet his gaze. “I shouldn’t have snuck up on you. That was mean of me.”

She grinned despite herself, “You don’t have a mean bone in your body.”

He cocked his head to the side, “What makes you say that?”

She laughed, “How many times have we met now? There was the time you came and hung out with me after you made that lovely dinner for Ladybug and she never showed up, and even though you were hurting, you comforted me. Oh, and when you were battling Evillustrator, you were kind. A show off, yes, but kind. And what about the time that—” she cut herself off, blushing, “well, that my dad was akumatized? You went out of your way to make sure I was ok.”

He was completely taken aback. “I didn’t realize you noticed those things. But… about that time with… with your dad—”

Marinette drew in a deep breath and shook her head, “I’m really sorry about that time, Chat Noir. It…” she’d been practicing different excuses all afternoon, but none of them felt right, “… it was a misunderstanding.”

He looked at her very carefully, “So you _weren’t_ in love with me.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry I said I was.”

“Well,” he sighed, “that’s a relief. Wait,” he backpedaled immediately, “I didn’t mean that. I mean, anyone would be lucky to have you for a girlfriend, and you’re beautiful and amazing, but—”

“Chat,” Marinette smiled softly, “it’s fine. See what I mean? Even when you find out I’m not in love with you and never was, you’re _still_ super nice about it.”

Chat Noir took a step backwards and put his fists on his hips. “Nice? You think I’m _nice?_ ”

She giggled and nodded vigorously. “Too nice. Goofy, flirtatious, a total dork, and very, very _nice.”_

He wagged his eyebrows once, flashed his teeth, and Marinette screamed as he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted them both off the pavement. She hadn’t even inhaled when he shifted his grip so she would be more comfortable as he raced her over the rooftops of Paris. 

Marinette had flown over these rooftops more times than she could count. She’d been carried by Chat Noir before, in fact. But it still took her breath away. Up here, the city was wide and open, the air was sharp and fresh, and she looked up at Chat Noir—his hair was rippling in the wind and he had an expression of unbridled enthusiasm that made her smile. He looked down at her in his arms and jumped over one last alley to a secluded rooftop garden. He set her down. She dusted off her clothes, placed one hand on her hip, and shook her head slowly. “That was unfair.”

“Ah yes, but it was mean.”

She giggled, “Nope, not mean.”

He frowned playfully, “I didn’t scare you?”

“Not in the slightest.” She sat on the corner of one of the flower beds that was filled with tomato plants. 

He hopped on the ledge of the roof dropped to sit cross-legged with his chin on his fists. “You are a funny girl, Marinette. Most girls would have been terrified by being carted over the rooftops like that.”

She chuckled to herself and bit back the _I’ve had practice_ that threatened to slip past her lips. “Well, you’ve seen my bedroom. Being up high doesn’t bother me.”

“Good point. So what _does_ scare you?”

Marinette blushed violently as the image of Adrien and the prospect of her mustering the courage to confess her feelings, only to be politely turned down wafted across her train of thought. “Um, spiders. Yeah, spiders. Super scary,” she shot finger-guns at him without making eye contact.

“Nice try, Marinette. No, seriously,” he pressed, “what’s your biggest fear? I’ll tell you mine.”

She rolled her eyes at him, “You’re a superhero, you don’t have biggest fears.”

He poked out his lower lip, “I’m human, thank you very much, and I definitely have biggest fears. I’m afraid of cages—being locked up and alone forever.”

Marinette was surprised. She hadn’t expected him to open up like that, at least not this quickly. “That’s… that’s sad to think about, Chat. Why would someone lock you up?” He looked away, out to the horizon, and Marinette’s gut told her she’d touched on a delicate subject and should back off. “Sorry,” she apologized, “I shouldn’t have asked—”

“I haven’t always had lots of friends,” he said quietly. “And contrary to popular belief, I can’t hang out with people like this,” he indicated his suit with a wave of his hand. 

“Hey,” she tried to lighten the conversation, “we’re hanging out! This is hanging out!”

He smiled back at her before turning away again, “That’s true.”

Marinette felt bad. She took a deep breath, then started, “There’s a guy I like. I’ve liked him for a long time, but I’ve never been able to tell him how I feel. I’m afraid… my biggest fear is that he wouldn’t like me back; at least not the way I want it to be.”

She expected him to laugh. She expected him to make a corny pun or otherwise brush off her quiet confession. He did none of the above. Instead, he stood, walked to her, and sat down so close their thighs touched. “That sounds awful. First things first: do you need me to go pummel the guy? Because I can—”

She laughed despite herself, “No, Chat, no need—he’s actually a really cool guy. You’d like him.”

Chat scratched his cheek absentmindedly, “Some guy who broke my Princess’s heart? I doubt that.”

“No, seriously! He’s kind and sweet, brave and strong. You know who he reminds me of?” she forged ahead, “Ladybug.”

Chat’s head snapped up, his cat ears perking up. “Really?”

“Yeah. So, you can appreciate why I like him.”

He nodded ponderously, “Yeah, I can appreciate that. And I can appreciate why losing him is your biggest fear.” Marinette remembered Sandboy and seeing Chat’s real nightmare. She suddenly wondered if his confession about cages really was his biggest fear. “I think you should tell him how you feel.”

She snorted ironically, “Not a chance in the world. I mean, not that I don’t want to, but that I can’t. I literally _can’t._ ”

“Why not?” She rolled her eyes, and he continued, “I mean it, why not? You just go up to Mister-don’t-know-what-he’s-missing and say, ‘Hey! I like you!’”

She laughed, “Wait, wait, can you imagine that? Really? Imagine some random girl that you’ve known for a while but never really noticed marching up to you and saying ‘Hey! I like you!’ You’d think she was some kind of stalker!”

He frowned, “I would not. I’d be flattered.”

She quirked an eyebrow, “But you probably wouldn’t throw your arms around her and kiss her for all she’s worth, would you.”

“Depends on the girl.”

“See? You’d—” what Chat Noir had said suddenly clicked, “Wait, what?”

“It depends on the girl. If I liked her back, I just might.”

Marinette frowned, “And what if you didn’t like her back?”

He shrugged as if this happened frequently, “I’d politely tell her that I didn’t feel the same way about her.”

She poked him in the chest, “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

“I’d be very kind!”

She rolled her eyes again, “We’ve established that you’re _kind.”_ Marinette ignored his laughter. “See, I don’t want to mess up what friendship we’ve been able to build if he doesn’t feel the same way.”

“Who says your friendship will be messed up? Do you know how many times I’ve told Ladybug that I love her?”

Marinette chewed the inside of her lip, “A lot.”

“Yes, a lot. And she’s still my friend.”

“That’s different.”

“How so? I’m upfront about my feelings, but that only brings us closer.”

“Usually,” Marinette couldn’t help herself. “Sometimes she gets annoyed with you.” He looked offended, so Marinette hurried to repair the damage inflicted by her barb, “But then you always give it your all and save the day, and you’re always there for her and you always make it right in the end. Ladybug is lucky to have you.” Chat Noir seemed placated by that. “But even if I were lucky enough to be in love with someone as amazing as Ladybug, I still couldn’t just waltz up to him and tell him.” Chat Noir gave her an incredulous look. “I’m telling the truth! I’ve tried so many times; it always ends in total disaster!”

He chuckled, “Why do I doubt that? Oh, maybe it’s because you’re Marinette, brave, confident, powerful Marinette, who has literally bathed crocodiles and lived to tell the tale.”

She giggled. “And yet it’s true, I turn into an absolute wreck around him. Every time he looks at me I turn to a puddle of goo.”

He laughed louder and leaned back on his hands, “I’d like to see that.”

“No, you really wouldn’t. It’s a total cringe fest. I’m not joking—it’s _not_ pretty.”

Chat Noir sprang to his feet. “You know what you need, Marinette?”

“To be less klutzy and a really flashy pair of heels?”

He rolled his eyes, “No—besides, if Mister-I’m-too-blind-to-see-someone-incredible-right-in-front-of-me only likes flashy heels, then he doesn’t deserve you—no, what you need, Purr-incess, is confidence.”

She was about to protest, but he had a point. “True. But flashy heels are a lot less expensive.”

“Come here.” He held out his hand. Marinette took one brief moment to look at him—to truly look at her partner. He was eager and attentive. His jaunty ears were pointed straight up, his eyes wide and tender. Even though Adrien had a death grip on her heart, Marinette was so grateful for Chat Noir. She slipped her fingers over his palm and he pulled her to her feet.

“Ok, confidence. _Confidence._ You know who’s confident? Ladybug. Give me your best Ladybug impression.”

Oh shoot. “Um, like, what?”

“I don’t know, call ‘Lucky charm!’ or something.”

Marinette cleared her throat. This was very dangerous. “Lucky charm.”

Chat’s shoulders sagged in disappointment. “No, like this!” He tossed his hair out of his eyes, poked out his hip, and threw his baton in the air. “Lucky charm!” His cry was high and energetic. The baton twirled several meters in the air before he caught it, twirled it a few more times, extended it to full staff, and leaned on it expectantly. 

“Show off.” 

He guffawed and shrunk the staff. He handed it to her, “Your turn.”

Marinette fingered his baton carefully. She’d used it enough to be familiar with its weight and capabilities. She was tempted to show off right back—to arch up to one toe and pirouette like she always did as Ladybug—but her keeping her identity secure was top priority. It took more control and confidence than Chat Noir would ever realize for Marinette to screech with just a little waver in her voice, “Lucky Charm!” and pitch the baton in the air. It spun; she tried to catch it but it bounced out of her hand, hit Chat Noir across the crown of his head, then flew off the edge of the building. “Oh! Chat! I’m so sorry!”

He rubbed his head, laughing so hard that tears were leaking out of his eyes, and jumped off the edge of the building to retrieve his baton. He was still busting a gut when he scrambled back to the rooftop, collapsing on his back and literally rolling from side to side, clutching his ribs. “You—you are so---you threw it—and it…” he gasped between fits of laughter.

Marinette stomped her foot, “I know, I’m pathetic.”

He shook his head, wiping the tears from his eyes, “No, quite the opposite, actually,” he wheezed, “That was adorable!” Marinette tried really hard not to laugh as well, but his joy was infectious. “I mean, you threw the—and then it—”

She sat on the edge of the building and giggled. “Ok, ok, enough Marinette teasing for the day.”

He sat up, returning to his cross-legged pose, and smiled at her, “You still _definitely_ need confidence, but maybe pretending to throw a yo-yo isn’t the best plan of attack.”

“Yeah,” Marinette sighed dramatically, “we’ll leave the yo-yo slinging to the professional.” Chat Noir placed his chin on his fist and gazed up at her softly as she paced across the rooftop. It suddenly went very quiet. “What?” she asked, when she realized he was staring at her.

“I just think it terribly funny that Marinette Dupain-Cheng, class representative, designer of a Jagged Stone album cover, winner of Gabriel Agreste’s design challenge, should have problems finding confidence around some kid who is so blind that he doesn’t realize he’s got the most amazing girl in the world in love with him!”

Marinette frowned, “How did you know all that about me?”

He scoffed, “Marinette, all that is pretty public knowledge.”

“Wait,” she gasped, “it _is_? Maybe he thinks I’m some kind of prude! Maybe he thinks I’m some mystical, unobtainable, stuck up—”

“Marinette!” Chat Noir interrupted.

“What?”

“Have you ever seen Paris from the top of the Eiffel Tower?”

“Uh—”

And just like before, his arms were suddenly around her, they were flying, racing, the wind pulling her hair away from her face, his eyes focused and his muscles firm and the scent on his neck was a mixture of musk and mint… Why yes, she thought to herself, I _have_ seen Paris from the top of the Eiffel Tower. Why he thought this was a wise or necessary stunt, she didn’t know, but even still, he’d managed to snatch her breath away. Again. 

“Chat Noir, what are you doing?” she whined.

“Not telling,” he cackled, now holding her with one arm while the other extended his baton to lift them higher and higher. It was windy up here, and chilly, and Marinette didn’t feel quite as comfortable with the height when she wasn’t transformed. 

“Chat Noir, please!”

“You’ve gotta see this,” he boldly declared a he effortlessly leapt to the spire on top. He pinned her between the spire and his body, which, she realized, was _awfully_ close, but how else could he safely hold her up there? She wrapped her arms around the spire while balancing on the narrow ledge. She looked out at the sparkling city below her and gasped. 

“You’re right, it’s incredible.”

“No,” he laughed, “look closer.”

She spun slowly around the ledge, overlooking the whole city. Inhaling again, she said, “The world is so small from up here.”

“Small, meaningless, carefree. You know,” he mused, “sometimes I come up here just to keep things in perspective. The world is so much bigger than we are. Our part is so insignificant.”

She snorted, “You’re a superhero, Chat. You’re not insignificant.”

He bit his lip, “You’re right, of course. I’m super important.” His voice was flat and sardonic. “Don’t mistake me,” he pressed on, trying to make his point clear, “ _you’re_ important. All your worries and fears are not. There’s so much wonder and beauty in this world. Don’t spend your time wasting the opportunities you’ve been given just to pine after some loser.”

She looked around again. The horizon stretched out, effortlessly blending from land to sky. “You’re… you’re right.” 

He smiled, wrapped his hand around her waist once more, and slowly lowered both of them to the ground below. Chat was almost instantly thronged by people clamoring to meet him, but he leaned in and whispered, “Thanks for the afternoon, Marinette.”

“Thanks for the perspective, Chat Noir.”

And with that, he vaulted himself off to chase that fading, distant horizon, leaving her smiling after him in wonder.


	4. Proofreaders and Partners

Marinette wrote her article shortly after she got back from where Chat Noir had dropped her off in front of the Eiffel Tower. To be more accurate, she wrote ten drafts of her article, but posted none. She was confident enough in her writing, but it felt almost inappropriate to write about a conversation about Chat Noir when, she realized with a twist in her stomach, they’d mostly talked about her love life. She hadn’t asked him _any_ of Alya’s questions, and she hadn’t brought up his pajamas at all. She was realizing how hard it is to be a good reporter when her phone chimed. There was a new text message from Adrien. She squealed with delight and opened her messages:

**Adrien: Hey, how’d the interview go?**

Marinette couldn’t understand why Adrien was so interested in Chat Noir. Then again, he did say he had Ladybug pajamas and that he thought Chat Noir was almost as incredible as Ladybug, so he must be another superhero fan. She thought briefly before tapping out her response:

**Marinette: It was really good.**

**Adrien: Really good, huh? That gives me nothing to work off. Was Chat Noir as awesome as you mentioned before class?**

**Marinette: LOL yeah, he’s pretty great. He was…**

Marinette paused typing and let her ellipses haunt the message feed for a while. She tried to finish her sentence, but none of her usual adjectives for Chat Noir seemed to work.

**Adrien: Handsome? Funny? Smart?**

**Marinette: Intimate.**

**Adrien: INTIMATE???**

**Marinette: no!**

**Marinette: shoot!**

**Marinette: Forget that!**

**Marinette: Totally the wrong word!!! Ugh I hate myself**

**Adrien: LOL so what did you mean then?**

**Marinette: I mean, he was… super friendly. A good listener. Gave great advice. I totally got caught up in our conversation and forgot to ask any questions.**

**Adrien: … sounds… intimate**

**Marinette: shut up**

**Adrien: haha I’m excited to read your article**

**Marinette: I don’t know what to write. We didn’t talk about him at all!**

**Adrien: Just write about your intimate conversation**

**Marinette: I swear, one more joke about the word intimate from you, and I’m going to…**

**Adrien: Yeah? What’re you going to do, DC?**

Marinette paused texting and blushed. She’d been bantering with Adrien Agreste and not even batting an eye. Now that she noticed it, she felt incredibly self-conscious. Change the subject! Yes, that was a good idea.

**Marinette: I think I’ve got an idea for my article, though Alya’s going to hate me for it.**

**Adrien: I love it already. If you need someone to proofread, I’m available.**

* * *

“Marinette!” Alya shouted through their facetime call, “I’m glad you had a fun date with Chat Noir—”

“I told you, and I wrote in the article, it wasn’t a date!”

“—But you know I can’t post this! This is… this is…” Alya scrolled through her computer screen for a bit to grab a snippet of the article Marinette had written, then quoted, “‘ _As the afternoon slipped by, I began to realize that there’s a softer side to Chat Noir. Though our time together was brief, he was tender and thoughtful, and we probably could have chatted for hours if he hadn’t had to go off to do hero-type-things…’_ Marinette, this is a freaking loveletter!”

Marinette blushed and groaned, “Well, what do you want me to do? Rewrite it?”

“I don’t think that would help,” Alya muttered. “Without some meat to write about, even the most carefully phrased article is going to sound like you two were on some kind of an intimate outing.”

Marinette choked a bit, “Please don’t describe my meeting with Chat Noir as _intimate._ I think I’m ready to die of embarrassment.”

Alya sighed, “There’s already pictures of you two on top of the Eiffel Tower together. If you don’t want it getting out that you’re going on intimate dates with Chat Noir, we’ll have to head it off right away.”

Marinette dropped her face into her hands. “Ok, how about this,” Marinette grumbled, “We’ll post a teaser for a series of interviews. I’ll see if I can’t get another few minutes with him, and actually ask some questions this time.”

Alya eyed her suspiciously, “You think Chat Noir will be willing to sit for more interviews?”

Marinette bit her lip and shrugged, “I hope so. I think he had a good time hanging out this afternoon.”

Alya shook her head slowly, “I don’t like it. But it’s all we’ve got, so I guess that’s what we’ll do. I’ll post the teaser before bed.”

“Sounds fair,” Marinette agreed, before blowing a kiss to her friend and saying goodbye. Marinette wished she had a way to get a hold of Chat Noir and ask him for more interviews before Alya posted anything on the Ladyblog. She started pulling on her pajamas, then caught sight of her calendar. Wait, it was Wednesday! Patrol night! She wrote up a quick note on her signature pink stationary, then called for Tikki. It took a few minutes for her kwami to phase through the window.

“Everything ok, Marinette? Kaalki said you needed me.”

“Everything’s fine, Tikki! It’s just patrol night.”

“Of course! I nearly forgot!”

“How are you and Wayzz doing with those ingredients?” Marinette asked discreetly.

“It’s slower than I’d hoped. This might take a long time,” Tikki responded with a little pout.

“That’s just fine,” Marinette reassured, feeling both sneaky and fortunate that she would have ample time to interview Chat Noir without Tikki around to figure out her plan. “Getting each ingredient is more important than getting them all right away.”

“Thanks for understanding, Marinette!” Tikki squealed, gave her chosen a hug, then whizzed into her Miraculous when Marinette called on her transformation. Marinette didn’t know how much Tikki and Plagg heard or saw when they were transformed, but she didn’t want to risk anything. She tucked the note in her yo-yo and zipped off for her circuit around Paris. It was a pretty quiet night, even when Ladybug checked in with the police. Chat Noir’s green pawprint flashed on her yo-yo screen, so she knew he was out and about, but she waited for a long time on their designated rendezvous point. Finally, well after sundown, Chat Noir landed softly beside her.

“Good evening, Milady! Anything to report?”

She stood and stretched, “Nope, everything was really quiet. What about you? It’s awfully late…”

“Oh, yeah, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I went to visit a friend briefly, but she wasn’t there.”

“Really? Who’s so special that they earned an evening visit from a superhero?”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Ladybug was grateful for the dim light—her cheeks flared red. “She and I hung out this afternoon. She’s doing an interview for the Ladyblog and I… I didn’t really answer any of her questions. I didn’t mean to; I just got kind of carried away talking to her about other things.”

Ladybug giggled. “Marinette carried you away?”

“No,” he hastily added, “I mean, yes, but in a totally natural and platonic way.”

Ladybug teased, enjoying watching her suave partner flounder, “I think he doth protest too much.”

Chat Noir rolled his eyes, “It really wasn’t like that!”

“So,” she pressed, feeling far too confident wearing her red and black spotted mask, “what _was_ it like, then?”

Chat Noir leaned against the chimney, “Chill. Marinette’s really cool.”

Ladybug grinned, feeling pride swell in her breast. “Is that so. What did you talk about?”

“Oh, some of this, some of that. Deepest fears. Love lives. What Paris looks like from the top of the Eiffel Tower.”

“Love lives, eh?”

“Hers, mostly. The poor girl has a crush on a guy who is an oblivious prick. I was giving her pointers on how to express her feelings.”

Ladybug’s mouth went dry. “Well. I bet that was interesting.”

“I don’t know if I was much help.”

“I’ll bet you were great.”

He looked at her with fondness in his green eyes. His jaw softened and he took a few steps toward her tentatively. Ladybug’s heart skipped a few beats. “Ladybug,” he said quietly, “I know I’m pretty forward, but do I ever annoy you?”

“A-annoy me?” she stammered, realizing how her Miraculous enhanced her senses just enough that she could smell the musk-and-mint already, even though he was several paces away. 

“Marinette said sometimes I’m overbearing. I don’t want to be overbearing.”

He was being so vulnerable and—dare she say it—attractive that Ladybug had to look away to prevent herself from being lost in his gaze. “I… I don’t like it when you goof off during a battle, but I understand that’s your way of coping with stress. And in the end, we get the job done, so what’s wrong with a little fun along the way? If it were only me out there, I’d be pretty boring. I’m glad I have you as a partner. You help me see things from a different perspective.” As soon as the word ‘perspective’ slipped past her lips, she regretted it. He’d just taken _Marinette_ to the top of the Eiffel tower for perspective, not Ladybug! Stupid, Marinette, stupid!

Thank goodness, Chat Noir merely nodded slowly, oblivious to her slip of the tongue. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure, Kitty. You’re always there when it counts, and you’re the most caring person I’ve ever met. Definitely not overbearing, or whatever Marinette said.” He smiled and looked off to the horizon. “Speaking of Marinette,” Ladybug segwayed, trying not to be too obvious, “on my patrol I saw her walking by the Seine. She said she had a place to be tonight, but she wanted me to give you this note.”

His ears perked up as Ladybug extracted the pink note from her yo-yo. He opened it, read it over, smiled, and nodded. “She wants to do another interview to ask her questions. Is that ok?”

She chuckled, “Do you need my permission?”

He smiled softly, “I’d like it, so that there’s open communication between us. I’m not trying to hide anything.”

She fought back the urge to squeeze his hand. “Thank you for that. Go, have fun with Marinette. Maybe someday I’ll find a cute guy to interview me!”

He blushed, but then countered, “Hey, I’m always willing—”

“Nice try, Chat.” She yawned. “It’s late. Next patrol is Sunday. We’re still good for that?”

“Of course, Milady. Hopefully we won’t see any akumas or sentimonsters before then, but if we do, know that my favorite part is spending time with you.” He gently kissed her knuckles before she could protest. (And, secretly, deep down, Ladybug loved it when he kissed her knuckles and didn’t _want_ to protest). 

“I’m still working on more powerups. Anything we can do to give ourselves an edge against this new, stronger Mayura is a good thing!”

“Sounds good. Maybe we should add some training exercises to our patrols?”

“Probably smart,” she nodded contemplatively. 

“So, until Sunday then.”

“Or sooner,” she smiled, waved, and then swung off the edge of the building, her knuckles still warm from where his lips had brushed. 


	5. Interview (for real this time)

Marinette was waiting on her balcony at the appointed time. Chat Noir arrived just a few minutes early, in typical Chat fashion (not that she’d ever admit that she was familiar with Chat Noir’s punctuality). She didn’t jump in alarm this time and was far better prepared for an interview by sitting on her lounge chair with a pink notepad and her list of questions. “Good afternoon, Chat Noir,” she smiled when he perched on her balcony railing.

“Good afternoon, Purr-incess,” he grinned, sweeping into an elaborate bow. 

“Thanks for coming for a second attempt at an interview. Can I get you anything to eat or drink?” 

He looked at her curiously, one ear twisting to the side, “Um, no, I’m fine.”

“Ok, shall we get started, then?”

He smiled wider and adjusted his feet on the railing to come to a very cat-like pose. His tail swished behind him. “I’m ready, fire away!”

Marinette nodded once, then looked at the first question on her list, and sighed quietly. “Um,” she cleared her throat, “Readers want to know… are you… that is, do you… Ugh, this is really weird.”

He chuckled. “You noticed too?”

“It’s just that this first question is so… is so _personal._ Wait--” she halted, looking up from her pink notepad, “You think this is weird?”

“Marinette, I’ve been interviewed lots of times. You’re just not a reporter.” She huffed in protest, but he pressed on. “It’s actually something I really like about you, and one of the main reasons I came back. Being with you is natural, not forced or loaded with personal, pointed, gotcha questions.”

She sank back in her chair and looked down at the page full of questions. “Oh.” Then, pressing her luck, she added, “O-one of the reasons?”

He nodded, “I told you yesterday, I don’t get to hang out with people as Chat Noir very often. Or, ever. I like being with you, Marinette. You’re fun.”

She blushed slightly. _Adrien,_ she scolded herself, _you’re in love with Adrien._ But when a tall, strong, handsome hero looks at you with those piercing eyes and says he like being with you? You blush.

“How about this,” he suggested, hopping from the railing and leaning back against it in a casual pose, “you just ask me questions that you want to know the answer to. If they happen to coincide with the list Alya’s readers composed, then great. If not, I’ll never be the wiser.”

Marinette smiled and nodded, “Sounds good.” She had a hard time breaking away from his eyes to think of her first question. “So,” she stalled, then blurted, “How do you do that with your eyes?”

He blinked rapidly, taken aback, “Do what?”

She spiraled back, “I mean, why do your eyes go solid green like that when you’re transformed? Like, the sclerae and everything?” He laughed and let Marinette continue, “Ladybug’s eyes don’t do that.”

“I really don’t know, Marinette. First question and you’ve stumped me.”

She giggled, “I guess it’s one of those magic things.” She scribbled ‘Eyes—Magic’ on her notepad. But with the awkward first question out of the way, the conversation became easier. “Better question,” she asked, “how did you feel, being chosen to be a superhero?”

He looked away wistfully, “Honored. Excited. Overwhelmed. It’s been a while since that fateful day, but I still feel the same way every time Ladybug and I are called on to save Paris.” He laughed ironically, “The very first time, I was so excited I transformed before I really understood the rules and ended up wasting my cat—I mean, special power—and leaving Ladybug in a lurch. But she rose brilliantly to the occasion.”

Marinette cleared her throat, “As I recall, that was the only akuma she let get away—”

He shot her a look, “That’s not true. It just took a little longer to capture, which is to be expected. It was her first time as a superhero as well. Nobody can be expected to be perfect on their very first try, can they? Ladybug has always had the harder job, and she has always figured it out.”

Marinette muttered her agreement, feeling equally embarrassed and fiercely proud of her partner. To prevent him from seeing the tears that were prickling behind her eyes, she scribbled on her notepad. “So, Chat Noir, what would you say has been the hardest akuma you’ve ever faced?”

He pondered briefly, “Each one has posed its own challenges; I don’t know if I could say which one was the hardest. But every time Ladybug and I fight a supervillain, we learn and get stronger.”

Marinette once again got lost in her partner’s gaze. She felt exactly the same way—they’d come so far since those first few akumas. She was proud of the heroes they were becoming, and she recognized his role in that development. He was ever the optimist, perfectly balancing her practicality. When she came up with complicated plans, he executed them without hesitation. When she was frustrated, he offered a word of comfort. 

“Uh, Marinette?” he asked. She snapped to attention. 

“Sorry, just got lost in my own thoughts there for a second.”

“Well,” he asked, sitting on the edge of the long lounge chair beside her, “what were you thinking about?”

“The first few akumas you and Ladybug fought. Were you scared?”

He surprised her again by nodding vigorously, “Of course I was scared.”

“Really?! You always seem so cool and confident!”

He laughed, “I’m glad I come across that way; I try to blow off the stress with jokes and my incredible dancing.” He stood, twirled on the spot, and struck a pose. Marinette busted up laughing. “But the truth is, being a superhero is hard and terrifying. I mean, can you imagine taking on a giant baby that’s smashing buildings until it gets a sucker?” Marinette snorted into her elbow to hide her laugh. “Seriously! That’s scary stuff!” He sat again and grew more serious, “It’s good Ladybug can keep a level head because often times the akumas aren’t just physically challenging, they’re mentally difficult as well. Whenever I come up with the plans, things go wrong.” His voice drifted to a quiet, unsure place that Marinette had never heard him wander to before. It was strange, seeing him so vulnerable and tender. He was staring at his clawed fingers, his back was slumped, and his mouth was turned down slightly. She reached over and touched his arm soothingly.

“That’s not true, Chat Noir. You are an important part of the team, and Ladybug couldn’t save the day without you. Your input is valued.”

One of his cat ears twitched toward her, “You really think so?”

“I know so.” She took one soft finger and ran it down the back of his black cat ear. He shuddered and let out a tiny purr. “Wait, you can feel that?”

He looked at her suddenly, “Uh, yeah? I mean, my ears are real. They can hear and stuff.”

“Fascinating!” she piped, writing notes feverishly on her notepad and grateful for the shift in conversation. “Are your other senses enhanced by your Miraculous?”

“I get night vision, which is pretty cool, and my tail helps me balance, even though it’s removable.”

Marinette laughed at the memories of using his belted tail to pull off numerous lucky charms. “It’s a pretty handy piece of equipment, I take it?”

He grinned and nodded. Marinette scanned through the list of questions on her lap. Finally, she found one that jumped out at her. “Hey, Chat Noir, what’s your favorite treat?”

“My favorite treat?” he repeated, leaning back and stroking his chin ponderously, “Well, I like Andre’s ice cream, but I don’t have someone special to go with.”

“You don’t?”

He shook his head. “That’s not to say I haven’t tried. There was a girl a few months ago that I dated for a while, but she wanted to move faster than I did and we ended up going our separate ways.”

“So,” Marinette’s eyes wandered back to the glaring question at the top of the page, “you’re not in a relationship.”

He looked at her and rolled his eyes, “You finally decided to ask that question.”

“Well,” she bit her lip, “It’s on the page.”

“You really want to know if I’m in a relationship?”

“Kind of?”

“Why do people always ask that? I mean, I’ve made no secret of the fact that I’m in love with Ladybug. Do they really want to know if I’ve got another girl on the side?”

Marinette sat back and tapped her lips, “I don’t think it’s like that. They want to know if you’re available.”

“Well, my heart’s spoken for, if that answers that question.”

“But you’re not in a relationship.” 

He looked back at her, not with frustration or malice, but with true curiosity. “Do people not think I’m serious about Ladybug?”

Marinette thought about that for a moment, “I think some people, especially all your fangirls, hope that your flirtatious nature with Ladybug is a façade; an act, if you will.”

He growled lightly beneath his breath, “Why would they want that? I’ve always been very clear where my feelings lie, and they never believe me.”

Marinette patted his shoulder, “Don’t be too harsh on them, Chat,” she whispered. “As long as you’re just flirting with Ladybug, as long as they can believe it’s an act, they still have a chance.”

He looked at her studiously. “They want a chance with me?”

She nodded. “We girls are funny that way.” She wrote a couple notes on her pink paper. 

When it became clear she wasn’t going to elaborate, Chat Noir pressed on, “Please explain?”

She sighed, put the paper down, and looked at him. He was so intent that her stomach gave a little lurch. “Girls love deeply, Chat Noir, and sometimes it’s easier on our hearts to believe that if the object of our affections knew us, they’d love us, rather than accept the truth that the guy we’re in love with is way out of our league.”

“But,” he countered, “there’s a lot of really great guys out there. It doesn’t make sense to pine after one person that you hardly know when he’s clearly in love with someone else.”

Marinette’s lip trembled and she looked away, “You’re right, Chat, it doesn’t make sense. But it’s the way it is.” She stood and walked to her railing and tried to even out her breathing before it turned into a sob that would definitely spiral out of control. She was not a crazy fangirl, she tried to remind herself. Her crush on Adrien had led her to do plenty of things she wasn’t proud of, but she… she knew he liked someone else. She knew he had Kagami. Why couldn’t she just move on? Why had her attempted relationship with Luka failed so miserably? She wrapped her arms around her ribs and squeezed them to keep her diaphragm steady. 

“Marinette,” Chat Noir whispered behind her, “I’m sorry.”

She plastered a smile to her face and turned around to see him sitting there, looking so friendly and so kind that the ache in her gut calmed. “You didn’t answer my question,” she noted. “What’s your favorite treat?”

He grinned, apparently just as grateful for the shift in conversation as she was, “Well, that’s a hard question, because I haven’t tried all the treats in the world. So far, I haven’t found any that I don’t like.”

“So, in the evenings when you’re hanging out with your friends, what do you have a big tray of?”

He got a far-off look on his face, “Um, fruit parfaits?”

She scoffed, “That’s awfully fancy.”

“I don’t know! I guess I don’t get the chance to hang out with friends eating treats very often.”

Marinette jabbed her fists into her hips and stomped her foot, “Well, that’s just lousy. But,” she lifted her pointer finger, “I just got the best idea. Come on!” She grabbed his hand, kicked open her skylight, raced through her bedroom and down one flight of stairs after another until they reached the bakery on the bottom level of her home. “Maman, Papa, you know Chat Noir,” she introduced briefly. Her parents gave warm smiles of welcome to the superhero. Chat waved sheepishly. “This poor kid doesn’t know what his favorite treat is. I think we need to give him some options.”

Chat Noir didn’t see it coming. Marinette took a step back and watched her parents pounce with a proud smile. They instantly started stuffing Chat Noir with breads and sweets of every color, shape, and size, explaining the name and history of each one. Chat’s eyes met Marinette’s between bites of chocolate souffle. He said nothing, but his look of gratitude was all Marinette needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to my friends over on the Miraculous Fanworks Discord Server for helping me brainstorm the interview questions! If you want to come over and brainstorm, beta, share, write, and art all things Miraculous with us, here's an invitational link. 
> 
> https://discord.gg/wcQvjyg


	6. Tried and Failed

She’d seen him coming across the cafeteria this time, so Marinette didn’t jump when Adrien sat down next to her. “So, I’ve been dying to talk to you all day about that article. It was great, by the way,” he grinned and started eating his lunch.

“Th-thanks,” she stammered and took a sip of her milk. 

“I especially loved the part where you talked about your taste-test in the bakery. It sounds like Chat Noir really likes you.”

She tried not to choke—tried, and failed—“He doesn’t _like_ like me, though. He likes spending time with me. I couldn’t say it in the article, but I think the poor guy’s really lonely.”

Adrien nodded thoughtfully as he swallowed a spoonful of soup. “Friends are important. Friends like you are worth their weight in gold.”

Marinette blushed furiously and looked at her hands. “Thanks, Adrien.”

Nino and Alya joined them, along with Mylène, Ivan, Nathaniel, Marc, Juleka and Rose. Alix arrived and poked Nathaniel and Marc in the ribs until they moved enough that she could share half of each of their seats. “Marinette!” Alix loudly proclaimed, “Nice article on the Ladyblog!”

Marinette could already tell where this conversation was headed, and she wasn’t eager to participate in it. “It’s really not that big of a deal. So, what’d you guys think about that physics lesson? Pretty great, huh?”

Her attempt to change the subject failed miserably. Nino spoke next, “We’ve got to figure out a way to have a party for Chat Noir. That dude needs more friends.”

Ivan grunted, “I had no clue that someone as funny as Chat Noir could be so reserved!”

Mylène patted her boyfriend’s arm, “Sometimes the most boisterous among us are the most gentle, and vice-versa.”

Rose spoke over Mylène, “Well, I think it’s adorable how you two keep going on dates and calling them interviews! When’s your next one, Marinette?”

“Hang on,” Marinette gasped, “they’re not dates!”

Alya simply raised her eyebrow as Alix took over, “Nice try, Marinette. You’d have to be pretty blind to not see the chemistry you two have.”

“We do _not_ have chemistry! We’re just friends!” Marinette searched the table for an ally. Eventually, her eyes landed on Adrien. She gave him her most pleading look.

“I dunno, Marinette,” he said coyly, “Chat Noir claims he’s only in love with Ladybug, but maybe he’s just putting up a façade.”

She glared at everyone, “Chat Noir is a _superhero._ He saves Paris every day. We really shouldn’t be pestering him about things like his love life. It’s… it’s rude!”

Juleka was looking like she might side with Marinette, but Alix interjected, “That may be true, but we’re not speculating about _his_ love life, we’re speculating about _yours!”_

Marinette sighed and rubbed her forehead. “I’m not in love with Chat Noir! Besides, he’s in love with Ladybug, really, truly in love with her, and I’m just me, just Marinette!” It was a lame way to finish that sentence, but Marinette couldn’t think of anything better. Nino and Nathaniel shared a look and both burst out laughing.

Alya huffed, “What’s up with you two?”

Nathaniel looked at Marinette softly, “Marinette, you’re plenty—” he hiccuped and blushed bright red, “you’re plenty special on your own.”

“Yeah,” Nino wagged his eyebrows at Marinette, “Nathaniel and I may have moved on from our crushes, but you’re totally on-par with a superhero, both in looks and skill.” Marinette dropped her fork and had to look down at her plate to prevent herself from screaming. To her horror, Nino didn’t stop, “Am I right, Adrien?”

“I’m with Marinette on this one—Chat Noir’s not on the market.” Marinette sighed in relief and looked at him gratefully, until his green eyes flashed wickedly, “But if he were,” Adrien grinned, “I think Marinette would be exactly his type. You’d better watch out,” he reached out and softly flicked a piece of her hair, “He’s already got a thing for girls in pigtails. A couple more of those ‘interviews’—” He made air quotes. He actually made air quotes and Marinette thought she was going to die. “—and you’ll officially nab yourself a superhero boyfriend.”

“Oh gosh this is a disaster,” Marinette whined so softly that her friends couldn’t hear, “I should have never agreed to these stupid interviews. I knew everyone would get the wrong impression!”

Adrien leaned in and whispered to her, “For what it’s worth, I think it’s really cute and Chat Noir is loving getting to know you. Please don’t stop.” She looked up at him between her fingers, utterly mortified. “But, would dating Chat Noir really be so terrible?” She picked up her tray and marched towards the back of the cafeteria to clean up after herself. Adrien hurried to catch up with her. “Really, Marinette, I want to know—what’s so bad about Chat Noir?”

She paused and looked at the god before her. “Nothing,” she responded simply, able to think a little more clearly now that she was no longer surrounded by a firing squad, “I just… I like someone else,” she answered. 

“Oh really?” he asked softly, leaning in so that she could feel the heat radiating from his skin. He was so, so handsome. Her heart was racing and her palms beaded up in sweat. “Who?” There it was. The question she’d always dreaded and yet yearned for. This was it, this was her moment. What did Chat suggest? _Confidence. Ladybug confidence._

Marinette swallowed, her mouth suddenly desert dry, and tried to hold his gaze. She lifted her chest, “I… I…”

There was a crash and a bunch of screams from the courtyard. “Akuma!” someone yelled into the cafeteria, and all the dining students groaned in frustration. Adrien whipped toward the door, and Marinette could see a girl dressed in what looked like a Chat Noir replica suit, firing black balls of energy from the end of her baton and screaming for Marinette Dupain-Cheng to come and meet her doom. 

“Marinette!” Adrien took her hand and started pulling her toward the opposite exit, away from the battle, “We’ve got to find a place for you to hide!”

“Why?”

He skid to a halt and gave her a strange look, “Uh, because the akuma wants to hurt you?”

She looked back at the akuma, which hit Nino with some of the black energy and he started pining for her on his knees. “Doesn’t look too scary to me,” she lied. “I’ll be fine. You get to safety, I’ll figure it out. She’s probably just angry about the interview.

Adrien looked between Marinette and the akuma and back to Marinette. “You’re… you’re sure?”

“Totally,” she smiled and shot him finger-guns. “I’m sure Ladybug and Chat Noir will be here soon, and Chat can back me up.”

He blinked a couple times, then nodded, “Ok, promise me you’ll be safe?”

“I promise,” she smiled, before he turned and ran off, pausing only to hold the door for a few more escaping students. She looked back at the akuma and felt her stomach wrench in knots. Maybe she should actually do what she’d promised to do and talk to the poor girl first. But then some of the mopey lovesick zombies the akuma’d created caught sight of her and she ran for dear life. Marinette raced up the stairs and away from the akuma, until she ducked into the locker room and hid in her empty locker. “Tikki!” she cried, “Spots on!” Nothing happened. “Oh shoot, I keep forgetting that wild goose chase I sent you on… Tikki! Where are you? Tikki!” The door to the locker room broke open and Marinette could hear the akuma screaming her name. “Shoot, she’s here!” Marinette muttered under her breath to no one in particular. Almost immediately, she heard her partner’s voice enter the enclosed space.

“Hey, Crazy Chat Lady, over here! You wanted to meet me? Well, here I am! Am as I incredible as you imagined?” Marinette could hear the two connect in battle and she winced as she heard Chat Noir yelp in pain. 

Tikki phased through the locker wall, and in the dim light, Marinette gave her a worried look. “How are we going to transform and help Chat without him noticing? If he sees me burst out of Marinette’s locker as Ladybug, he’ll know my secret identity!”

“That’s just a risk we’re going to have to take!” Tikki said sadly.

“Come on,” Marinette decided despite Tikki’s shaking head, and Marinette pushed the locker door open and stepped out into broad daylight. 

“Crazy Chat Lady? Is that really your name? Oh well. Hey! Hey you!” she hollered, waving her arms and gaining the attention of the akuma just in time to cause her to lose control of her blast that surely would have hit Chat Noir square in the chest. “Why are you so worked up about that article? Can’t Chat Noir have some friends without being in love with them?”

The akuma snarled and turned on her. “It’s you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she sneered, “And no, nobody is ‘just friends’ with Chat Noir.”

“Hey!” he protested, clutching his ribs tenderly, “I’m right here, and don’t I get a say in who I date?”

“Shut up,” the akuma snapped back at him, before turning to Marinette once more. “I’m going to make you take back every word of that article and then I’m going be the one who interviews Chat Noir until he falls in love with meeee!”

Marinette would have laughed if the akuma hadn’t been so dangerous. Actually, she still laughed. “That’s not how this works!” she yelled, stalling for time, “That’s not how any of this works! People don’t fall in love because you force them to, they fall in love because they get to know each other and—” Marinette babbled while looking around the locker room for something, anything, to get her out of this place and somewhere she could safely and anonymously transform, “—and enjoy each other’s company and then they start coming up with inside jokes and they eventually just realize that their lives are incomplete without the other person in their lives!”

Chat Noir was gaping at her. The akuma looked confused. Marinette saw her window of opportunity and bumped a loose soccer ball on the ground with her toe. It rolled innocuously out of sight. “Yeah,” Marinette pressed on, “People think love is something that hits you like a ton of bricks, but true love isn’t like that. It’s more gradual and long-lasting!” Her aim was true. The ball connected with the broom at the end of the aisle of lockers and out of the line of sight of the akuma. The broom fell over and hit the bucket it had been propped near, and the bucket clanged noisily. “Ladybug?!” Marinette screamed, looking down the aisle, and the akuma tore off toward the sound. Marinette spared a quick thumbs-up to Chat before racing out of the locker room and to safety.

* * *

“Did you mean what you said?” Marinette jumped. She was alone in her room, the window open to let in the smell of the soft rain outside, wrapped in her fuzziest blanket, loud music playing, and doodling a black-cat-inspired cocktail dress in her sketch book.

“What are you—Chat Noir! What are you doing here?” she squealed, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders, even though her pajamas weren’t visible. He was hanging, upside down, from the eaves of her roof and looking in the open window. His hair was dripping with rain, but his grin was wide and playful. “Come inside, you mangy feline, before you catch a cold!” He grinned wider and swung through the portal window, landing on all fours. He shook his head and sprayed water everywhere. Marinette squawked in protest, before grabbing a towel from the back of her desk chair and tossing it to him to dry the sopping mess he’d just made. “Ugh, you’re paw-sitively feral, you know that?”

He quirked his head to the side in that infuriatingly adorable way of his and flashed his teeth at her, “Was that a pun?”

She flushed. Maybe the hit she’d taken from that wretched akuma earlier that afternoon hadn’t quite worn off. She’d only gotten hit at the very end, a split second before snapping the baton and cleansing the akuma, and she’d only felt the first waves of pure devotion to Crazy Chat Lady, but maybe it was different for her. Certainly, these new feelings of… _not attraction_ … towards Chat Noir were the akuma’s doing. He was not adorable when his ears twitched like that. And she was certainly not as elated to see him as her heart seemed to think, beating like that. “Um, I don’t think so?” she answered, even though she wasn’t quite sure she remembered his question.

“I think it was. I think you totally just dropped a cat pun.” He swelled with pride. “My purr-incess, all grown up and making cat puns! I can die a happy man!”

She threw a pillow at him. “What are you doing here?” she repeated. “It’s late, it’s raining, and just because you have the ability to hang from rooftops does not give you the right to poke your head in every open window in Paris—”

He held up a finger, “I have not, nor will I ever, visit _every_ open window in Paris. Just this one.” There went her stupid heart again, fluttering like mad. This was Chat Noir, she reminded herself. Chat. Noir. She blamed the akuma. “But I ask again: did you mean what you said?”

Marinette deadpanned at him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He chuckled in his throat, “Today, when you were hiding in the locker room and I was fighting the akuma before Ladybug had shown up, you started talking about true love not being a ton of bricks feeling. Did you mean it?”

Marinette wracked her brain. “Ok, I vaguely remember… I was stalling for time, trying to figure out a safe way out of the locker room.”

He leaned in closer. That musk-and-mint scent of his was really cologne worthy. “You didn’t answer my question.”

She swallowed against the dryness in her mouth and pulled her blanket even closer to her chest, “I-I guess so,” Marinette stammered. 

“So you don’t believe in love at first sight?” He asked, twirling her desk chair away from the computer and straddling it with his tail swishing behind him.

“I didn’t say that,” she corrected, regaining her composure. “I just think that love that lasts builds over time.”

“Is that how it is with Mister-dense-as-a-brick and you? It’s building over time?”

She shrugged, “He definitely grew on me, and the more I get to know him, the more I like him, but we’re not in love. That would require him to actually know I exist and return my feelings.” The words were more cathartic than she’d imagined they would be. 

Chat Noir shook his head mournfully, “I can’t imagine that he doesn’t know you exist—”

“I was being facetious, Chat.”

“Still, it just boggles my mind—”

She looked up at him sharply, “Please don’t,” she warned. “I only just admitted my heartache to you and am surprisingly ok right now, please don’t push it further.”

He looked taken aback slightly but respected her request. “Well, if you don’t want my help with your love life, care to help me with mine?” She pondered for a second, then shrugged. She preferred it when they were talking about him, so why not? “Today, after the akuma was cleansed, I swear Ladybug hit on me.” Oh dang. He’d noticed? She’d been clumsy, that’s all, typical clumsy Marinette trying to make a joke and failing miserably. She blamed the akuma. “That’s why I wanted to ask you about love developing over time. I wondered… maybe hoped… that Ladybug’s feelings might change over time.”

Marinette added pointed cap sleeves to her design that looked like little ears and thought carefully about her next sentence. “Feelings can change, and they should definitely build and grow if they’re going to stand the test of time.”

“But what do you think about Ladybug?”

“I don’t know enough about her to make that call. You’d have to ask her.” Then, biting her lip, “Why does she always turn you down? I mean, you’re attractive, funny, caring…”

He raised an eyebrow playfully, “Attractive eh?”

She blushed, “In an objective way, yes,” she clarified.

He looked out the window as his ears drooped to the exact same shape as the sleeves on her design, “She always said she was in love with another boy.” Marinette’s heart lurched. She hated hurting Chat Noir. Even though Adrien had been there first, even though Adrien still made her trip over her words and melt into a puddle of goo, Chat Noir didn’t deserve that pain. “I’ve always respected that choice,” he continued. “I’ve always promised myself that her friendship was the best gift she could give. And while I still pursued her, probably more than I should have, I knew that there was always the probability that she’d end up with someone else. So, I tried to get over her. I tried taking another girl out, and it failed spectacularly. And then you and I started hanging out—” he turned his piercing eyes on her and her knees melted a little bit (she blamed the akuma) “—and it was like Ladybug got a kick in the pants. I almost wondered if she was jealous, just like Crazy Chat Lady—”

Marinette gave a panicked look, “I don’t think—”

“Yeah,” he laughed at himself, “ridiculous, right? I mean, why would Ladybug be jealous of you? Of us hanging out? We’re just friends!”

She nodded, “Yep, just friends!”

“So you don’t think Ladybug hit on me to test the waters. You don’t think she’s changing her mind.”

Marinette scratched her head. “I… I don’t know, Chat.” It was the truth.

He stood up and folded the towel she’d loaned him. It was so different than the over-the-top manner of his arrival that Marinette, once again, found herself gawking at him in wonder. “Oh, uh, Marinette,” he added sheepishly, “you’re not going to, you know, write about this?”

She reeled back, slightly offended, “Definitely not. All discussion of love lives is strictly off the record. Besides, I don’t have my pink notebook with me, so I can’t be in reporter mode, can I?”

He smiled at her fondly. “Thanks, then. Though, I think my fans will be disappointed if that first installment was your last. What do you say, Saturday morning, thirty minutes before sunrise, I’ll pick you up here?”

“Sure. Wait, did you say _before_ sunrise?”

“Have a good night, then, Marinette!”

“Chat Noir, hang on, _before_ sunrise?” she tried again, but as he swung back out the window and into the rain, she knew she’d failed.


	7. Before Sunrise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just adore this chapter, so very much. That is all.
> 
> Once again, a huge thank-you to all my friends over on the Miraculous Fanworks Discord server for helping me brainstorm questions and come up with the location of the sunrise DEFINITELY-NOT-A-DATE. Feel free to drop in and find all the inspiration you could ever dream of! 
> 
> https://discord.gg/wcQvjyg

“Good morning, Angel!” Marinette tried to smile at her father, even though this was not her idea of a ‘good morning.’ “You know I always appreciate your help in the bakery, but today’s not very busy and I know you’ve had a lot of extra work the last few days…why don’t you sleep in a bit?”

Marinette yawned, “I wish I could, but Chat Noir is coming to pick me up for another round of interviewing.” 

“Really.” Her father smirked.

“You don’t need to look so pleased,” she grumbled.

“I’m just impressed,” he shrugged. “He got you out of bed before sunrise on a Saturday. That boy deserves a medal. Or—” he tapped his chin as his thoughts distracted him, “—I’ve got a better idea… You get ready, leave the rest to me.”

“Papa—” Marinette moaned, “—please don’t encourage him.”

“Encourage him? Moi? Never…” Marinette eyed her father warily as he started muttering to himself and bustling around the bakery kitchen. She trudged back upstairs and to the bathroom to be at least somewhat ready in the few minutes she still had before Chat Noir’s promised appearance. When she felt better about her state of affairs, her father met her on the stairs. 

“Here,” he said, handing her a picnic basket, “take this. You need the sugar anyway, this early.” 

Marinette fought the urge to roll her eyes and instead kissed her father’s cheek. “Thanks, Papa.”

“And, Marinette? Go easy on the kid, ok? I don’t get the impression he’s got a very warm life.”

Marinette poked her lower lip out, “Why does everyone think we’re a couple suddenly? We’re just friends!”

Her father looked accosted, “I didn’t think you were a couple, not that I’d mind—”

“Papa, please, I can’t have you getting akumatized again—”

“I won’t, don’t worry,” he smiled, and patter her shoulder. “I was just saying… you know what, never mind. You’re a smart girl and I trust you.”

She looked at the heavy basket in her hands, then back up to her father’s caring face. “Thanks, Papa.” One more quick hug, and Marinette skipped back up the stairs to her bedroom. She heard a noise on the roof above her and stood on her bed to open the skylight to the balcony. Poking her head up, Chat Noir jumped off her lounge chair and grinned at her.

“Good morning, Purrincess!” 

“You’re early,” she teased, placing the picnic on the deck of the balcony before pulling herself up as well. “Of course you’re early.”

He chuckled, “Well, I didn’t know if you’d be awake and I wanted to make sure… Hey, what’s this picnic basket? It smells amazing!”

“I went downstairs to say good morning to my Papa and let him know where I was going. He gave me this.”

The look he gave her was fascinating—a mix of curiosity and warmth and sadness. Before she could process why that particular expression had crossed his face, he shook his head and held out his hand. “Well, dawn is fast approaching. Shall we?”

“Oh, hang on, I need to grab my notebook,” she remembered and ducked back down into her room to grab her phone and the pink notebook and black pen with green paw prints. She placed them in her backpack, then, on a whim, added her sketchbook and pencils. Marinette tightened the straps of the backpack on her shoulders and returned to the balcony. “Alright,” she said, “ready.” 

Chat Noir, who had been leaning against her balcony railing, grinned in delight and wrapped his arms around her waist firmly. Marinette felt her blood pressure spike as he jumped off the edge of her roof and vaulted them across the city. She took the picnic basket so he could have a free hand to manage his baton and not drop her, but mostly he ran from rooftop to rooftop. Finally, he stopped in an unfamiliar little nook between two buildings. He hitched her a little closer to his warm, fragrant chest, and lifted the two of them up the side of the building. Much like the rooftop garden they’d held their first interview at, this place was secluded and invisible to potential passers-by, but otherwise unremarkable. On top of the building was an old bell tower, and Chat Noir lifted her up there. The bell had been removed, leaving an open platform and an arched roof that was loaded with abandoned bird nests. Once she could see inside properly, she noticed a pair of cushions on the ground and a thick, fluffy blanket. “Chat,” she sighed as he set her down on the floor of the bell tower. He picked up the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders to stave off the early morning chill. “This,” she tried to come up with the right words, “this is really nice. How did you find this place?”

He shrugged, “I like to explore the city on my days off. Just wait, it gets better.”

She was suddenly very grateful her father had packed them a basket of breakfast items. If she’d come up here without any contribution, she would have been forced to admit this was a date and not another round of their ongoing interview. She busied herself by opening the basket and pulling out a couple carafes of hot chocolate, a bottle of juice, and soft-boiled eggs with a fresh baguette. Her father had included forks and plates and a pair of egg cups. There was more food in there, but without a table to set it on, Marinette didn’t want to get too much out. She closed the basket and used it as her table, and was just getting things set, when Chat Noir unexpectedly took her hand and pulled her to her feet. 

“Marinette,” he said quietly, “you don’t have to wait on me hand and foot.”

“I’m not—” she protested, but the blazing look he gave her made her heart do a little dance. 

“Just… just look.” He said, sweeping his hand in front of him. She turned. The sky was rosy pink, and while there were buildings to the west and south of them, the view to the east was open across Paris, all the way to the horizon. Not only that, but just below them was a stunning flower garden with a noisy, cheerful fountain. Marinette took a deep breath and was welcomed with a warm, floral breeze. 

She was going to remark on how beautiful it was, but just then, the sun broke over the edge of the horizon. She blinked away the sudden brightness, but as soon as her eyes adjusted, she couldn’t close them again out of fear of missing even a millisecond of the amazing scene before her. The sun was only hitting the highest tips of the tallest buildings, illuminating everything at her level or above with gold. She realized the rims of the windows on the bell tower had little panels of stained glass; while they were open to the air, these small panels were just big enough to catch the light and refract it into a rainbow of colors on her skin and the floor behind them. She looked back down at the happy little fountain, which was now sparkling as if it were made of molten gold. The sunlight slid down the tower slowly, centimeter by centimeter, until it reached the lush flowers below them. At some point, Chat Noir put his arm around her, only to pull back a moment later, leaving a heaviness on her shoulders in the form of the blanket she’d noticed earlier. Time seemed to come to a stand-still and yet be moving in fast-forward at the same time. Marinette closed her eyes and let the sun’s rays penetrate deep into her center, before opening her eyes and allowing the view to mesmerize her once more. The city, now fully immersed in the sun’s warming rays, began to stir with life and sound. Marinette stepped back from the window and exhaled slowly. She turned to see Chat Noir there, not as captivated by the incredible sunrise as she was, but rather gazing at her with a fondness that made her knees go weak. He reached up and brushed a thumb across her cheek, which she suddenly realized was wet.

“Are you glad you came with me before sunrise?”

She swallowed and nodded. “That was incredible. How did you even find this place?” she asked again. 

He winked at her, “Finding it was easy. Finding someone I wanted to share it with was hard.”

Marinette had blushed many times in her life, but this time was particularly fierce. She looked down at the little picnic she’d set up before getting lost in the sunrise. “Um, my father sent some food,” she said stupidly, still trying to get her heartbeat to calm down. 

Chat Noir wheeled around and was suddenly sitting cross-legged on one of the cushions in front of the basket. He patted the other cushion and grinned, “I am _so_ looking forward to this.”

She laughed and took her seat. The stained-glass panels at the edges of the open windows still cast beautiful speckles of colored light that streaked across his cheeks and chest. Marinette cracked her soft-boiled egg open and tore off a piece of baguette, dipping it in the yolk and sucking on it for a moment, before she opened her backpack and extracted her notebook. Chat Noir was sipping his hot chocolate and moaned in delight. “I’ll bet your father made this hot chocolate from scratch.”

Marinette lifted an eyebrow, “Of course. Why wouldn’t he?”

“Well,” he shrugged, “that’s not as common as you might think. Most people use a mix.”

“Do you prefer a mix, Chat?” 

“Definitely not. But that doesn’t mean I know how to make hot chocolate from scratch.”

“It’s really not that hard. You heat milk and cream, stabilize it with a little cornstarch, add grated chocolate, and use an immersion blender to get the consistency just right. I like to add some vanilla or nutmeg, but that’s about it. Most people add way too much sugar, but—” He was staring at her. “What? Am I boring you?”

“Quite the opposite,” he smiled, taking another bite of breakfast and smiling. 

Marinette’s heartbeat was having a hard time staying even today. She flipped through her notebook to find the page of questions, not trusting her brain to stay coherent. “So… a lot of people look up to you. What advice would you give them?”

“I dunno, something really loquacious like ‘follow your dreams’ or something.”

She laughed hard. “I’m going to quote you on that.”

“Please do,” he flexed his muscles, making her laugh even harder. Then, he turned slightly more serious as he ran his fingers through his wild blonde hair, “It’s usually Ladybug who gives the inspiring speeches.”

Marinette looked back at her notepad, at a question she’d written herself but hadn’t thought she’d ever be brave enough to ask, and whispered, “Do you feel like you’re an equal partner with Ladybug?” He froze still as a statue, eyes locked on her. She was shrinking, and still he didn’t move. “Sorry, nevermind, I shouldn’t have asked—”

He held up his hand, “It’s ok, Marinette, you don’t need to apologize. Your question just caught me off-guard.” He went quiet again, thinking carefully. Marinette helped herself to more breakfast (now that the sun was up, she was properly hungry). “To be honest, there’s been good times and not-so-good times, but Ladybug is a great person to work with.” Marinette pursed her lips, now regretting taking such a large bite. Chat Noir continued, “If I’ve ever felt unequal, it was because of my own failings, not hers.”

Marinette swallowed, “I think she’d beg to differ. I think she’d say you’re a fantastic partner and that she needs you even more than she needs her lucky charm.”

Chat Noir smiled unconvincingly, “That’s kind of you to say, but you don’t know what Ladybug thinks or feels.”

Marinette laughed inwardly at that one—she didn’t? She was tempted to transform right then and there… not that she ever would, of course. “Well, what would you prefer I say?”

“Nothing,” he responded simply. 

“You want my professional Marinette opinion? Because you’re going to get it.” He laughed a bit, so she continued, “You’re invaluable—both to Paris and to Ladybug—and your mistakes, which can hardly be called mistakes at all, only make you stronger. You should never, ever think you’re second to anyone, Ladybug or otherwise. And,” she took a deep breath, “if Ladybug doesn’t tell you the same, then she’s a fool who doesn’t deserve the earrings she wears.” He looked at her in shock. “Maybe I’ll write her a note saying as much. You can give it to her next time you see her.”

He blinked a couple times, then shook his head, “That’s not necessary.” Marinette’s favorite toothy grin spread across his face. 

“And what’s more,” Marinette cried, now that she was thoroughly warmed-up, “I don’t know why you don’t have lots of friends and why you seem so sheltered and lonely, but you’d better keep your identity well protected because if I ever figure out who made you afraid of being caged up like some animal, I’ll put them in the hospital.” She slammed her fist into her palm to prove her point. Chat Noir leapt back in alarm. “You’re a great person and my friend, and I do _not_ let people hurt my friends!”

Chat Noir blinked twice more, then launched himself over the picnic basket and threw his arms around her in a tight embrace. She stiffened, he pulled back and looked sheepish, “Sorry,” he whimpered, before Marinette opened her arms and returned the hug. She rubbed the back of his hair softly. “That was the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“You deserve it,” she whispered back, knowing he would never understand just how much she meant it. Ladybug had never had the time to get to know Chat Noir like this. Now that Marinette had opened her heart to Chat Noir, she never wanted him to leave again. 

But wait—what about A—

“You are such an unusual girl, Marinette,” Chat Noir said, pulling away from her to look her in the eyes. “You know, in… what is this… our third? Fourth interview? You’ve never once asked me about my personal identity. In fact, you’ve told me _not_ to reveal it to you.”

Now it was her turn to blink in confusion. “Well, it’s hero code, not to reveal one’s identity, right?”

“Right, but that doesn’t stop every single reporter I’ve ever met as Chat from asking. But not you. Why is that?”

“Um…” she floundered.

“Is it because you had a Miraculous?” Marinette was sweating all of a sudden, her hands flying to her cheeks instinctively to cover her earlobes, but Chat Noir didn’t seem to notice her reaction, “You know, I think it’s unfair that Ladybug won’t give you another shot. After all, it was only her and me and you up there that saw you when you transformed.”

Oh. _Oh._ He was talking about Multimouse. Marinette sighed in relief. “No, that was my mistake, and I respect the rules. If Ladybug thinks it’s too dangerous, it’s too dangerous.”

He bit his lip, “Well, there’s been other Miraculous holders that have revealed their identities—even to Hawkmoth—and they’ve still gotten another chance. I don’t know what it is about you that made her put her foot down so hard.”

“Maybe she was unhappy with something I did?”

He shook his head fiercely, “Not possible. You were incredible that day. Plagg told me how you used all your duplicate-selves to dual wield my Miraculous and break out of Kwamibuster’s tank.”

Marinette tried to play dumb, “Pl-Plagg? Who’s Plagg?”

He smiled, “My kwami. You held a Miraculous, you know what a kwami is.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” she nodded. “Well, I just did what Ladybug asked me to.”

“Once again, proving how unusual and special you are.”

“What, because I followed directions?”

Chat nodded, “Yep. You did everything right—”

“—Except for detransforming right in front of you—”

“But was that really a mistake?”

She swallowed hard. Was… was Chat Noir on to her? Did he suspect the whole Multimouse thing had been an elaborate ruse to throw him off her trail? Shoot… did he know? “Of course it was a mistake!” she protested.

He sat back on his hands and looked at her carefully. “Very unusual and special indeed.”

Marinette was at a total loss for words. If Chat Noir knew her identity, even if he suspected there was more to her than what she let on, then they were travelling into very dangerous waters. She battled with her inner self. Wasn’t this the point of the interviews? Wasn’t getting closer to him, close enough that their kwamis could connect, the whole point? Maybe she should tell him. She _wanted_ to tell him. She didn’t know how he would react, but she wanted him to know that Ladybug was right here, listening to every word he said. 

But the heroine inside her won. Her secret identity was her most important form of protection. She’d seen a future where Chat Noir knew who she was, and while he loved her still, it had gotten him akumatized and nearly destroyed the universe. Besides, look at Queen Bee. Look at Lila. As soon as Hawkmoth knew someone’s identity, they became a liability. And, as she’d already declared, Marinette wouldn’t let anyone hurt her friends, including hurting themselves. She especially would not hurt them herself. Placing the burden of knowing on Chat Noir was not safe, and not fair to him. 

“So, um,” she stammered and started rifling through the basket for a fresh batch of pastries to share, “do you and Ladybug have any leads on Hawkmoth?”

He took the pain-au-chocolat from her and chewed slowly, “If we did, you’d be the first to know. And you know you can’t publish anything like that, in case Hawkmoth himself saw it.”

She nodded, “Yeah, true. But off the record… what about Mayura? She’s suddenly gotten way stronger. How do you feel about that?”

He studied her again carefully, “Frightened, of course, but it comes with the territory. Ladybug’s been developing new power-ups, but I wish there was something, anything, we could do to tip the scales in our favor.”

Marinette’s cheeks flared again. There was something they could do, and she was in the process of doing it! “Maybe you guys could practice some new moves. I know you’re really talented with martial arts and sword fighting and stuff; at least, it seems that way in the footage I’ve watched. Maybe you should teach Ladybug some of your tricks?”

His eyes didn’t stray from hers, “She’s pretty talented as it is. It’s usually me trying to keep up with her.”

“Well,” she took a bite of food, “that’s really tough. I hope you guys figure it out. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

“Marinette?”

“Hmm?”

“Who’s the guy you’re in love with?”

She choked on her food a bit and had to pause for a coughing fit. When she finally cleared her esophagus, she looked up, “Why, so I can give you yet another thing to tease me about?”

“Tell me,” he leaned in with a gleam in his eye. 

“It’s really not important.”

_“Tell me,”_ he insisted.

“My father sent us a bunch more pastries, are you still hungry?”

“Marinette.”

She stood and leaned over the window ledge. Wow, they were high up. There was no escape except the way they came in.

“Marinette,” his voice was softer now, “I won’t make you tell, but I really want you to. I want you to trust me.”

She looked at her hands. “You’re going to think less of me.”

“I promise I won’t.”

“You’re going to think I’m just as ridiculous as your fanclub.”

“Impossible.”

She swallowed hard. “It was Adrien Agreste.”

He was quiet for a long time. Marinette didn’t dare turn back around for fear of seeing the horror and humor that surely had just crossed his face. Though, she had to admit, saying his name wasn’t as painful as it could have been. Finally, after several moments of silence, Chat Noir whispered huskily, “Was?”

She shrugged, still looking at the golden horizon, “He’s dating Kagami Tsurugi—I think you know her; she was akumatized a couple times. Besides, I know it’s impossible. It’s always been impossible.” Admitting that out loud, and particularly admitting it to the only boy who’d been able to make her heart do that funny little dance it was currently performing, was doing incredible things for Marinette. She felt like a burden had been lifted. She felt lighter and freer than she had in months. She finally got the courage to turn around and look at Chat Noir. He looked a little stunned, but otherwise his expression was unreadable. Marinette bent down and started cleaning up the picnic. “Chat, will you take me home? I’ve got a lot of homework to do, and some cooking—”

“Of course.” He shook the dazed expression from his face, but stayed quietly lost in thought as he raced her over the rooftops and back to her balcony. Finally, he handed her the lighter basket and she started to say goodbye when he cupped her cheek in his gloved hand tenderly, “I was right about him.”

“Who?” she queried.

“Mister Blind-as-a-Bat. He doesn’t know what he’s missing. And I definitely need to go pummel him.”

“Chat, no—” but the sad little smile he gave her let her know he was only joking. Still, Marinette squeezed his hand, “It’s ok, really. It was only a crush.”

He gave her one last penetrating look, stroking her temple with his thumb, “You still didn’t deserve to have your heart broken.”

She returned the touch around the rim of his mask, fighting back the urge to reveal herself once more, “Neither did you.”

She thought for a second that he might lean in and kiss her right there, and she probably would have kissed him back, but he didn’t. He stepped back and smiled. “Thanks for breakfast.”

“Thanks for the sunrise,” she countered. “Have a great day!”

“You too, Purrincess.”


	8. Unexpected Response

Marinette sent her article to Adrien for proofreading only two minutes before Tikki and Wayzz phased through the window with wide smiles on their faces, and carrying a large, heavy sack between them. 

“Tikki! I’m so happy to see you! Wayzz!” Marinette greeted them. Tikki and Wayzz dropped the sack on the desk, then nuzzled Marinette’s cheek.

“We got all the ingredients on the list!” Tikki proudly announced. “Even that ridiculous cheese for Stinky Sock…”

Marinette smiled, “Is that what you call Plagg now?”

Wayzz rolled his eyes, “They’re always being mushy like that. They’re worse when they’re together. For centuries, it’s always this constant giggly banter…”

Tikki swiped at Wayzz’s shell, but he phased just in time so her little paw sunk right through him. “We are _not_ mushy, and I told you to just leave it be!”

Wayzz giggled in a way that Marinette didn’t think was possible coming from a wizened old turtle kwami, but he flew off toward the box of snacks Marinette always kept on her desk these days for tired and hungry kwami. 

“Well, I got what I really needed to done this morning,” Marinette said, “so we can finish the power-ups this afternoon.”

“Sounds great,” Tikki smiled, helping herself to a vanilla bean macaron. 

Marinette looked at the blank screen of her computer and felt the guilt gnaw at her again. “Tikki,” Marinette sighed, “I need to tell you something.”

Tikki looked up at Marinette sweetly, “What’s that?”

Marinette bit her lip, “I… I’ve been doing some interviews of Chat Noir to try to get to know him better.” 

Tikki looked at her, a little confused, “Ok. So?”

“So, I thought you’d want to know that I’d been spending quite a bit of time with Chat Noir, as Marinette!”

Tikki smiled, “Sounds fun!”

“You’re not angry or upset?”

“Should I be?”

“No, I mean, he’s been really careful with his identity and I’ve been really careful with mine…”

“So, we’re good!”

“Yeah,” Marinette added, bewildered at how easy that was. “I just didn’t want you to be confused if he came over or something.”

Tikki smiled, “You’re free to hang out with whoever you like. If he stops by, we’ll make sure everything’s handled delicately.” That was Tikki-code for hiding the Miracle box and stuff.

“Ok then,” Marinette smiled, feeling much lighter now that she’d 1-admitted to Chat Noir that she was in love with Adrien and 2-come clean with Tikki about the interviews. While she hadn’t clarified the reason for the interviews and she hadn’t told Adrien himself about her feelings for him, neither of those two points seemed very important right now. “So,” Marinette announced, “my parents are both busy in the bakery today. We should be able to make a full pot of the power-up base in the family kitchen without interruption.”

“Great!” Tikki chimed. “I think I saw a variation for underground powers that looked interesting!”

Marinette envisioned herself as a spotted earthworm, her smile pulled into more of a grimace, and she nodded, “Well, it’s worth a shot!”

* * *

When Marinette woke up early Sunday morning, her phone already displayed numerous messages. Marinette rubbed her eyes and sat up in bed, then started flicking through them.

**Adrien: Excellent article. I forwarded it with my couple edits—just a couple typos— along to Alya, like you asked.**

**Adrien: Also, just was wondering if you’d talked to Kagami lately? She’s got a “penpal” in Japan that doesn’t seem too penpally to me, if you know what I mean.**

**Adrien: I mean, it’s cool whoever she wants to date… she’s a sweet girl, even if she and I were totally not right for each other.**

**Adrien: anyway, text me when you get a chance.**

Marinette scratched her head after that strange series of messages from Adrien. So, he wasn’t dating Kagami? She was actually surprised at how little that news affected her. She was more intrigued at why he would suddenly start asking her about their mutual friend’s dating life. Maybe he was feeling protective. Oh well, there were more messages to deal with. Next!

**Alya: Got your article from Adrien. Publishing now**

Marinette checked the Ladyblog, and sure enough, Marinette’s latest article about her sunrise breakfast interview with Chat Noir was on the top of the newsfeed. However, to Marinette’s surprise, the article included a picture of herself and Chat Noir, both of them with their backs to the camera, leaning against the window ledge watching the sunrise over Paris. It was a stunning photo—their dark silhouettes framed by stained glass panels and the incredible Parisian skyline blazing gold in the early morning light. “When was _this_ taken?” she whispered to herself. The only people in that tiny bell tower were herself and Chat Noir, and she certainly hadn’t taken it. She’d been too caught up in the beauty of the moment to even consider snapping a photo. Which left only one other person—Chat Noir himself. She knew his cat phone embedded in his baton had photo capabilities, and she supposed it was possible he could have used it like a selfie-stick behind them while she was mesmerized by the rising sun, but… she didn’t know how to feel. The photo wasn’t expository or inappropriate in any way. She loved the beauty of it already. But she wished Chat would have shared it with her before posting it on the Ladyblog. Marinette sighed. She couldn’t be too angry with Chat; _she_ was the one writing all about their interviews and his magic eyes and posting it on the internet. And besides, it wasn’t like he had a way of contacting her to send her selfies or otherwise. She winced at herself before returning to her private messages. There were notes from Rose, Juleka, several more from Alya, Nino, Sabrina, Alix, Nathaniel, and Mylène. Marinette rapidly flicked from note to note.

**Rose: MARINETTE!!!!! YOUR DATE WITH CHAT NOIR WAS SO SWEEEEEEET!!!!**

**Juleka: Hey Marinette, I liked your article.**

**Alya: Girl, you gotta see these stats—your newest article is blowing up! I didn’t think it would be so much bigger than the others, but this one is going bonkers!**

**Alya: Um, you just passed 1M hits in the first two hours.**

**Alya: OK THIS IS INSANE**

**Nino: Mari, if you thought you could fool the world with this ‘just a friend’ routine you’re cray-cray**

**Nino: but u no I don’t care about that. If you need someone to walk you to school on Monday to avoid the rabid fans, shoot me a line**

Marinette scoffed at that one—was Nino really offering to act as her bodyguard? Cute. Unnecessary, but cute. The texts from the others continued in the same vein—congratulating her for the article, asking if she and Chat Noir were officially an item now, wondering if they could get her to sign a printed copy of that photo… Marinette finally tired of the adulations that she felt were wholly unwarranted and silenced her phone. Tikki was still asleep between the ears of Marinette’s giant cat pillow, so Marinette left her while she went to the bathroom to attend to her morning needs. 

However, before she even had finished drying her hair, her mother knocked on the door. “Marinette, sweetie? Um, there’s a few people outside the bakery interested in talking to you.”

Marinette opened the door, “A few people? Why?”

Her mother looked slightly concerned, “I think they read your article about your date with Chat Noir—”

“It wasn’t a date!” Marinette growled.

“Interview, right,” Sabine smiled softly, “Well, I think most are fans of yours. We didn’t want to turn them away without discussing it with you.”

“How many people are we talking about?” Marinette asked, starting to get worried.

Her mother tapped her fingers together, “Quite a few.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “OK, I’ll be right down,” she grumbled, and raced back up to her room. She grabbed her backpack—already loaded with a fresh batch of power-ups she intended to share with Chat Noir later that night—and purse and called a still-groggy Tikki to come with her. “Sorry, Tikki,” Marinette apologized in advance, “Today might be a long day. Apparently there’s some people who want to meet me.”

“It’s fine, Marinette,” Tikki yawned. Marinette patted Tikki’s head, closed her purse, and skipped all the way down to the bakery. Once she was in sight of the glass storefront, though, Marinette’s stomach bunched up in knots. “Maman,” she whimpered, “That’s more than a few people.” A hundred, maybe more, people were packed in the front of the store and pouring out onto the street. One caught a glimpse of her, and they all started screaming her name.

“Hey!” Marinette screamed over them, “Calm down!” She couldn’t make sense of the situation. Some seemed to want to meet her, to reach out and touch her, some seemed genuinely excited, but many, many more looked angry that she existed. One person close to her was yelling loud enough that she could understand what they were saying.

“Oh my goodness, it’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Chat Noir’s girlfriend! It’s really her! She has the pigtails too, just like in the photo!”

“Whoa,” she yelled, managing to grab the attention of the closest twenty people or so, “I’m _not_ Chat Noir’s girlfriend. Like I clearly stated in the article, we’re friends. I’ve just been conducting interviews, that’s all!”

“Can you get me Chat Noir’s autograph?”

“Will you give me your autograph?”

“If you’re not dating Chat Noir, can I?”

“If you’re not dating Chat Noir, wanna date me?”

“People!” Marinette screamed and the crowd in the store quieted briefly, “This is my parent’s bakery. If you’re here to make a purchase, go ahead and do so. I stated everything clearly in my article. I’m not going to give more information now, so you should all just go about your day.” She gave the warmest smile she could muster under the circumstances. 

It was quiet just for a second, before someone lunged and the whole crowd surged forward, screaming her name. It was worse than she’d ever encountered (except, perhaps for a couple of public appearances as Ladybug) and Marinette started to feel claustrophobic. Tom Dupain cleared his throat and bellowed “GET OUT!” so loudly the front row of Marinette’s fans jumped. They sheepishly backed out of the bakery, but the street remained crowded. Marinette’s mother slammed the door shut and locked it. Panting, the three of them looked at each other.

“Thanks Papa, but we can’t keep the bakery locked all day. It’s bad for business!”

“I’ll keep the bakery locked as long as needed to keep my daughter safe,” he huffed, glaring at the people pressing their faces against the window.

“I didn’t think a couple little articles on the Ladyblog would cause this kind of ruckus,” Marinette groaned. “We’re not even dating! We don’t even like each other that way!”

Tom raised an eyebrow at her, but Sabine wrapped her daughter in a side-hug. “It’s ok, sweetheart,” Sabine insisted, “we believe you. You were awfully brave to face that crowd in the first place. The question now, though, is what we do moving forward. I’m sure they’ll tire of it eventually—”

“But,” Marinette injected, “I can’t hide in here until they do. Besides, you need the bakery to get back to normal.”

“Would you quit worrying about the bakery?” Tom barked. 

Maybe she’d been hanging out with Chat Noir so much that his confidence was rubbing off on her, or maybe it was the crowd currently chanting her name that set her on edge, but Marinette clenched her fist and whipped back at her father, “No! I will _not_ stop worrying about the bakery, just like I will _not_ stop worrying about you and mom! This is my home and my family, and you don’t deserve to be prisoners here just because you’re related to me! Ugh, I should have posted the interviews anonymously, or not done them at all!” 

Tom looked humbled. “Marinette,” he said softly, reaching out and touching her cheek, “you’re very good at protecting other people—” Marinette gulped; her father had _no_ idea how good she really was at protecting others, but he continued, “—but it’s ok to let others protect you too.”

Marinette shook her head sharply. “No, I’m going to get them to go home. I don’t know how, but I’m going to convince them.”

“Marinette—“ her mother warned, but Marinette was resolved. Steeling herself against the onslaught, Marinette marched to the door and unlocked it. She stepped outside on the pavement to be hit with a wall of sound. Bodies were pressing in on her, reaching out to touch her. Marinette tried to push back or to climb on something high so she could be seen and heard, but the sea of humanity was too strong. She ducked down instead and darted between a couple legs until she found a nearby bench. She hoisted herself up and started waving her hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Please!” she screamed, “Please just calm down! Leave my family and my home alone, and I’ll make sure to post another interview as soon as possible! Please just leave my family alone!” She kept hoping the crowd would listen and calm down, but every word she spoke just riled them up more. “Is this what it’s like to be famous all the time?” she grumbled to no one in particular. People started reaching up at her. One got a hand on her wrist and was pulling her toward them. She yanked her hand away, just in time for someone else to grab her ankle and she lost her balance. Marinette fell on her knees hard—she knew it was split open and bleeding without even looking. “Back off! Leave me alone!” she screamed.

She could hear her father’s booming voice trying to disperse the crowd enough that he could get to her, but it was something else that did the trick—a horn was honking. “Wow, is that Adrien Ageste’s car? Look!” a deep voice near her screamed, and the crowd collectively turned away. Marinette used the distraction to shoot a shaky thumbs-up to her horrified father, then run for the nearby park and relative safety. Marinette dove into the empty fountain as the dazed crowd started searching for her. “I think she went over here!” someone screamed, and the crowd raced after them. 

“What do they want with me?” she moaned to herself.

“Probably a selfie. Maybe an autograph. Some won’t be happy until you marry them, but I wouldn’t go that far.” 

Marinette yelped and rolled over to come face-to-face with Adrien Agreste, hiding in the same fountain. “Adrien!” she gasped, then clasped her hand over her mouth. “What are you doing?”

“I found out a while ago that this fountain is the perfect place to hide from rabid fans. I heard the crowd screaming your name from the mansion and thought you might need a helping hand escaping. Besides, I still owe you one.”

Marinette’s stomach relaxed and then re-knotted in an entirely new way. “Rabid fans? Owe me? No way—”

He shook his head and grinned, “I insist. Now,” he said, peeking over the edge of the fountain, “they’ll come this way soon enough. Take your pigtails out. I brought an extra hat.” Marinette did as she was told, letting her hair hang over her shoulders and pulling Adrien’s black ball cap over her forehead. “Here,” he said, pulling off his white overshirt and tossing it her way. She put the shirt on. He looked her over quickly, hesitated, then smiled. “Yeah, that’s better. At least, you don’t look exactly the same as before. Now, on my mark, we run for the back exit, take the shortcut to the school, then the little alley where they keep the garbage cans, and then to the metro station by the Seine. Ready?” Marinette didn’t have time to protest or ask questions. She looked at Adrien’s bright and caring eyes, nodded once, and he took her hand carefully and hollered “Go!” before jumping over the edge of the fountain. 

The race to the metro station didn’t go as smoothly as Adrien had described. They made it out of the park without incident, but someone noticed Adrien and deduced Marinette’s identity, even with her different hair, hat, and oversized shirt. “They’re over here!” the stranger screamed, and the crowd started closing in. Marinette dodged and ducked. Adrien strong armed one man and the crowd roared. With only a few meters to go, Marinette got elbowed in the back of the head and she yelped in pain. Adrien threw his arms around her to shield her from the mob and pushed his way down the stairs to the platform. 

It took until Marinette was safely on a train headed toward the Arc de Triomphe that her heart slowed to a relatively normal pace and she processed what was going on. She was sitting next to Adrien— _Adrien—_ after narrowly avoiding a pack of ravenous fans and non-fans, wearing his shirt and ball cap. He was still holding her hand, too. His long, strong fingers were wrapped around hers, and she had no recollection how it happened. That hand, adorned with the silver ring she never saw him take off, was touching hers. His skin was on her skin. Their hands were entwined. She, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, was _holding hands with Adrien Agreste._

“Marinette? Are you ok?” Adrien asked her. She looked up at those soft emerald eyes,

“Hm? Oh, fine, yeah,” she muttered, then added, “Why?”

“It’s just… your hands are shaking.”

Oh, they were, were they? That was interesting. Marinette looked down at her hands. They were a little blurry. Ok, a lot blurry. The pain in her knees throbbed, and the back of her head was swelling rapidly.

“Marinette,” Adrien’s voice was concerned, “I think you’re going into shock. Here, put your head down,” he suggested, gently wrapping one arm around her shoulder and pulling her head into his lap. She curled her knees up into her chest to prevent twisting her torso at an odd angle. The world was spinning, though Marinette didn’t know if it was shock or simply the fact that her head was now resting on Adrien Agreste’s (actually sort of bony) thigh. He took the hat off her head and ran his fingers through her hair, gently probing the goose egg growing on the back of her skull. “Marinette, breathe, ok? Nice and slow.”

Slow breaths. Ok. Well, at least if she died of shock right here and now, she’d die happy.


	9. No More Apologies

Adrien helped Marinette change trains a few times to throw any potential followers off before heading back in the direction they started. Marinette’s head hurt too much to protest. He only had her stand up when they were walking, but even that much made her dizzy. For the most part, he was very quiet, just holding her hand and occasionally asking her how she was doing. At last, Adrien patted her back and whispered, “This is our stop, how are you doing?”

“I’m ok,” she muttered and got to her feet. She still felt a little nauseous, but Adrien supported most of her weight. The touch of his arm around her torso made her dizzy in a different way. Marinette let Adrien guide her up the steps and into the dazzling sunlight. They were at the metro stop just in front of Adrien’s home, and he half carried her through the gate and into the main entrance. “Adrien,” she asked quietly, “your father—won’t he be upset?”

“He can deal,” Adrien spat. His bodyguard was suddenly by his side and scooped Marinette up in his arms. Adrien turned to the hulking man, “Marinette got injured. We need to get ice on it right away and call a doctor. Would you take her up to my room to wait? It’s more comfortable than sitting here in the foyer, at least.”

Adrien’s bodyguard nodded once and carried Marinette up to Adrien’s room. “I can walk just fine,” she protested, but the giant man just shook his head. Gorilla settled Marinette on Adrien’s luxurious couch, then left to call the doctor. Adrien pulled a chair up next to the couch so he could sit facing Marinette and held a cold compress to the bump on her head. He wore an expression of pure concern and softness, and Marinette was glad she was already lying down, because she surely would have collapsed had she been standing up. “This is really not necessary,” she insisted. “I can take a bump on the head with the best of them.”

He smiled and pushed her bangs out of her face, “I know. You’re tougher than anyone gives you credit for. Doesn’t mean you don’t need medical attention.”

She poked out her lower lip, “I still don’t get it. I don’t get why all those people were crowding my home and why they went bonkers like that.”

He pursed his lips ironically, “I never get it either. You do one little thing—write an article, pose for a photo shoot, anything—and they think they own you.” His voice was flat and bitter. 

She smiled at him weakly, “I should have posted that article anonymously.”

“Marinette,” Adrien crooned, “this was not your fault. You did nothing wrong. If anyone’s fault, it’s Chat Noir’s.”

Marinette sat up angrily, but her head gave a painful throb that pushed her back to the ice in Adrien’s hand, “No it is not,” she growled, “and don’t you _dare_ say anything like that again. Chat Noir is a human being with feelings too, and he doesn’t deserve to have his life picked apart by fans or critics.” She vaguely registered that she was yelling at Adrien, but she didn’t care. Nobody insulted her partner and dear friend, not even a little bit! “Chat Noir is a hero who deserves our respect, and if you dare say one word against him, I’m leaving right now!” Adrien looked taken aback. His lip trembled slightly before he swallowed and rubbed his nose, turning to look out the window rather than maintain eye contact. “Sorry,” Marinette added, the fire in her chest cooling slightly, “I’ve just… I’ve enjoyed getting to know him these last few days, and I’d like to consider him one of my friends.”

Adrien turned back to Marinette and gave her a tentative smile, “I know how protective you are of your friends,” he whispered. “Chat Noir is lucky to be among them.”

There was a knock on the door, and a doctor and a police officer swept in. Adrien stood back while the doctor started examining Marinette’s injury and reflexes. The officer asked them both questions—do you want to press charges? Did you get a good look at the man who hit you? Do we need to set up a security detail? Marinette wasn’t accustomed to this kind of fuss being made about her, but Adrien didn’t seem caught off-guard at all. He answered the officer’s questions while Marinette stood and listened to the doctor’s orders. Finally, after several minutes of this, the doctor confidently announced, “Well, you don’t have a concussion, just a bad bruise. Keep your knees clean, keep ice on your head, and take it easy for a couple days, but you’re going to be fine.”

“Thank you,” Adrien shook the doctor’s hand. “Marinette, do you have anything you’d like to add to the police report?”

She shook her head, “No, and really, can we just let it go?”

The police officer smiled at her softly, “We’ll do whatever you’d like, but we don’t have to make any decisions right now. Take your time, think it through, we’ll be ready when you are. We’ve gotten both your statements, and that’s enough for now. We’ll try to talk to Chat Noir about it—”

“No!” Marinette demanded, which made everyone in the room’s eyes go wide. “This is not his fault! He wasn’t even there!”

“Don’t you think he’d want to know what they did to you, just because you spent some time with him?” Adrien muttered.

Marinette reiterated, “No. I mean, if he wants to talk to the police, that’s his prerogative, but he shouldn’t be dragged into this just because I wrote an article about him.”

“Ok then,” the officer noted, writing on her tablet, “we _won’t_ try to talk to Chat Noir, unless he comes in to make a statement.”

“Thanks,” Marinette acknowledged. The officer and the doctor were escorted out by Gorilla, leaving Adrien and Marinette alone in his room once more. Neither of them said anything for a while. Marinette sat back down and took over icing her own head. Adrien looked out the window, lost in thought. 

Eventually, he turned back to her and said once more, “I’m so sorry for everything.”

“No more apologizing,” she demanded with a playful scowl. “Oh!” she squeaked, remembering, “I should call my parents!”

He smiled, “I did while we were on the metro. But yes, you should check in with them. I think you should, um…” he cleared his throat, “…stay here for a while, just in case there’s someone camped out in front of your house.”

Marinette nodded and pulled out her phone. “Oh crap,” she grumbled, “my phone got cracked in the tussle. Dang it! This one was just barely out of warranty, too!”

Adrien looked the phone over, “Well, you can call them with my phone, that’s no problem. Would you like me to send this in to be repaired?”

She tried to turn it on. The screen was cracked pretty badly, but she could still make out the words. “No, it’s just going to have to be that way. I can’t afford a new one right now, and this is still working.” Adrien frowned at her, but Marinette’s concern drifted a different direction. If her phone, in her purse, got cracked, then how was Tikki? “Uh, Adrien, could I use the bathroom?” she asked quietly. 

His eyes popped in surprise, “Of course! I’m sorry, I should have offered first thing!”

She rolled her eyes, “No more apologies, remember? I’ll just be a minute,” she added as he showed her to the bathroom, which was bigger than the whole bakery. Once alone, Marinette opened her purse and whispered, “Tikki! Are you ok?”

Tikki phased through Marinette’s backpack and flew straight for the bruise on the back of Marinette’s head. “I’m so glad you don’t have a concussion, Marinette! I can give you a little healing magic—”

“I’m fine, Tikki. Are you alright, though?”

Tikki rolled her little eyes, “I’m a kwami. We can get hurt, but not by a little brawl on the street. I think it’s awfully sweet of Adrien to take you in for the day, though.”

“I know; he’s such a gentleman!”

“Would you mind if I kind of… came and went today? I’ll be close by, of course,” Tikki added, “I just need to go have a word with Plagg about Chat Noir—”

Marinette held up her hand and scowled at Tikki, “Not you too! He didn’t do anything wrong.”

Tikki gave her an odd look, “You…you’re sure?”

“Tikki, I forbid you from blaming Chat Noir or Plagg for anything that happened to me because of those stupid articles. He’s just trying his best and he deserves friends and respect too!” When Tikki tried to protest, Marinette added, “Now, if you want to go visit Plagg for any reason, you always have my permission. Just give the poor guy a break, ok? Stay close enough by that I could transform if needed, but you need your freedom too!”

Tikki nodded, “Thank you, Marinette. I’ll try to remember that you humans are kind of fragile. And can I just… take care of that bump?”

Marinette shook her head, “Adrien is right outside that door and I can’t very well go marching out there with a magically healed head. Besides, the doctor said I’ll be fine, so I’ll be fine.”

Tikki smiled and nuzzled her head into Marinette’s cheek. “You’re really the best Ladybug I’ve ever known, you know that?”

“That’s what you keep telling me,” Marinette giggled. Tikki grabbed a cookie from Marinette’s purse, before phasing back into her backpack and out of sight. Seeing Tikki eat her macaron made Marinette’s stomach rumble, though. She realized she hadn’t eaten anything yet that day. She left the bathroom stoically while mustering the courage to ask Adrien for something to eat, but was totally surprised when she saw Adrien bustling around two covered plates, champagne flutes filled with juice, and the appropriate utensils for a full meal.

He rubbed the back of his neck when he saw her gawking at him. “I, uh, didn’t know if you’d eaten before the, you know, crowd and stuff, so I ordered us a couple plates of—”

She didn’t think, she just threw her arms around him in the most excited hug she could muster.

* * *

For eighteen months, Marinette had dreamed about a day like this, where she and Adrien lounged on his couch playing video games and watching movies, where she listened to him play the piano while she sketched in her sketchbook, where they snacked on sandwiches and they talked about everything. She’d dreamed about a day like this so often that it had become this distorted alternate-reality that haunted her with its unobtainability. Yet, suddenly and most unexpectedly, it was here. She’d always imagined she’d be so nervous and excited that she wouldn’t be able to string two words together. Her vision of a day like this had included her babbling incoherently and tripping over every loose thread on the floor because she was so lost in Adrien’s emerald gaze (but he wouldn’t mind because he would be enamored with her as well).

It wasn’t anything like how she’d envisioned. Adrien was friendly and kind and he certainly turned those powerful gemstones of his on her more times than she could count, and he seemed genuinely enraptured—uh, no, _interested,_ he’s only interested—with her, but, perhaps due to the sore spot on her head, Marinette didn’t trip. She didn’t stutter. She was as normal as Marinette ever got. 

“So,” Adrien asked nonchalantly as the two played one of Adrien’s racing games (Marinette was beating him handily), “I know you and Chat aren’t dating. And I know I don’t have any right to ask, but since I was there when you decided to do the interviews, and I’ve been your faithful copyeditor, I was hoping maybe I’d get a pass…”

She groaned, “You want to know more.”

“Yeah,” he admitted, sheepishly. “What was it really like, yesterday morning? Your article said that you went to a secluded spot in Paris for breakfast, but you didn’t say anything else about… your time with him…”

Marinette had to focus briefly on the game, as her racer popped a wheelie and did a flip off a ramp before landing squarely in front of Adrien’s racer to claim the win on yet another round. “Chat Noir took me to a place in Paris I’d never seen before. It was this old abandoned bell tower that had this incredible view,” she explained, remembering the way the gold light had sparkled as it slowly illuminated rooftop after rooftop. “He’d taken some cushions and,” she gulped, “a blanket for me up there. We arrived just before sunrise, and he let me just take it all in. I totally checked out, probably for half an hour. I’m guessing that’s when he took the picture. Hey,” she added suddenly, “did he somehow send _you_ the picture?”

Adrien’s eyes darted back and forth, “Picture? What picture?”

“The one attached to the article on the Ladyblog. I didn’t even know he’d snapped a photo during the sunrise, but when the article posted online, it was there. Any ideas?”

Adrien shook his head rapidly, “No clue. There was no ph-photo when I was editing it.”

Marinette sighed, “Oh well, I guess he must have sent it directly to Alya. She’s the only one he’s had contact with about this anyway. I’d kind of hoped he would have sent it to me first, but, then I realized, how could he? He doesn’t have my phone number or any way to contact me, other than landing on my balcony and knocking. Or poking his head through the window.”

Adrien chuckled, “Wait, he pokes his head through your window?”

“Yeah,” she smiled fondly, “he did that once.”

Adrien laughed louder, “What a weirdo.” She would have griped at him for taking a swipe at her partner, but his voice was full of levity and admiration, the way a friend would tease another, rather than judgement. 

Marinette smiled to herself as she leaned back into the couch and started up another race, lost in her own thoughts. She remembered the way Chat had startled her when he was suddenly hanging from the roof outside her window. She remembered the way her skin had burned when he put his arms around her. She remembered how soft his voice was when they were talking in the bell tower. She wondered what he was doing right now, and what he was thinking. Was he angry about the article? She sure hoped not—she’d be devastated if he was upset with her. She’d tried so hard to just write about the questions they’d discussed, with only a few small paragraphs about the setting of the interviews. She wished she had a way to contact him, to preemptively apologize, just in case he was upset at all… make it right…

“Marinette?”

“Hmm?” she snapped to attention.

“Do you like Chat Noir?”

“What? Of course I like Chat Noir!”

Adrien was looking at her, “No, I mean _like_ like Chat Noir.”

She blushed before she had a chance to even think about it. “What? I mean, of course…not. Yes, no, I mean, no, right?”

He smiled, “It’s ok. I promise, your secret’s safe with me.”

She punched his shoulder, “No. No, Adrien, I am _not_ in love with Chat Noir. He’s a great friend, and I’m not going to lie, the guy’s got amazing skin and smells like musk and mint and it’s fun to be with him, but I’m not in love with him.”

Adrien’s eyes glittered with mirth. “Ok, I believe you.” He didn’t believe her. She glared at him, then turned her attention back to the game. If she couldn’t shut him up with words, she’d at least shut him up with another embarrassing loss. She managed to nail the secret short cut entrance perfectly and lapped Adrien’s racer, then sat back and waited while he finished the course. She grinned—she’d set a new course record, and now he’d be forced to relive his defeat every time he turned on this game. He still looked terribly smug.

“Shut up,” she said when he crossed the finish line a minute and a half later. 

“I didn’t say anything,” he grinned.

She stood and stomped to the television, turning it off with a snap of her wrist. “If anything,” she growled, looking out the window and imaging her partner as he raced over the rooftops visible from Adrien’s bedroom, “I owe Chat Noir an apology.”

“Really?” Adrien queried from behind her, “Whatever for?”

“I should have posted anonymously. Now everyone thinks we’re dating, or,” she glared at Adrien, “in love. He’s got enough to worry about, he doesn’t need to be dealing with drama like this. I’m afraid I’ve messed everything up for him.”

“Marinette,” Adrien said softly, standing and walking to her side, “I seriously doubt Chat Noir is upset with you.” As she looked into his warm eyes, something familiar resided there, something she’d never noticed before. She couldn’t place her finger on it, but something about those mint-green eyes spoke to her, from the depths of his soul straight to hers. “I’ll bet if he were here, he’d ask you to quit apologizing, and he’d beg you to let him take at least a little bit of the blame for you getting hurt, since it’s really him that put you in danger.” Marinette bristled, but Adrien stepped even closer, so close she could feel the warmth of his body radiating over hers, and smell his hauntingly familiar scent, “And, I’ll bet if he were here, he’d tell you that he cares about you as well, very, very much.”


	10. Patrol Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Marichat lovers everywhere and all my friends on the Miraculous Fanworks Discord Server. Feel free to pop over and say hi!
> 
> https://discord.gg/wcQvjyg

Marinette was lying on her bed, staring out her skylight window, completely baffled. What was happening to her? The whole day had been so strange and unexpected, in being totally normal and expected. Her head ached and she adjusted her cat pillow to relieve some pressure on the still-tender-bruise. Her cat pillow reminded her of Chat Noir, and as an image of her partner flashed through her memory, her heart drummed against her sternum. 

_I’m not in love with Chat Noir I’m not in love with Chat Noir,_ Marinette chanted inwardly. She bit her lip as she admitted to herself that, no matter what she said out loud, no matter how long she chanted this new mantra, it would still be a lie. 

But Adrien! She loved Adrien! Her day with him had been effortless—something she never knew she was capable of. But was it effortless because she didn’t like him that way anymore? No, that couldn’t be true; she still felt Adrien was handsome and amazing and kind and smart and… yes, her stomach still twisted into knots just thinking about him. Was it possible to be in love with two boys at the same time? She didn’t think she could possibly choose between these two incredible young men. She groaned out loud at that thought—she was disgusting. _Two_ boys—yuck. Who even _was_ she any more? 

And then, she remembered Adrien stepping into her space, his voice silky smooth, his eyes so green and so familiar, his scent overwhelming her—his scent of musk and mint—and his words, oh his words, so full of meaning… _If Chat Noir were here…_ Why would he say such a thing? How would he know what Chat Noir was thinking? Why would he even guess?

Was it a guess?

What if she didn’t have to choose?

What if Adrien… what if Adrien was actually…

No. Marinette slapped her cheeks. She couldn’t even think the words; they were far too dangerous. The only possible end to _that_ train of thought was heartbreak—heartbreak for her, for Chat Noir, for Adrien, and could even cost both her and her partner their Miraculous. No. No musing over his identity.

But they were so similar—

SHUT UP MARINETTE! She rolled over and buried her head in her pillow, angry and confused and frustrated and—she gulped—in love.

Marinette really wanted to close her eyes and let sleep arrive, but her brain was threatening to turn this into a very late night. She thought about going to the kitchen for a cup of warm milk or a dose of melatonin or something, when she heard a strange noise above her. It was familiar and made her heart skip a beat. But why would he… There was the noise again. Footsteps, no bootsteps, so careful and so distinctive that they could only belong to one person—

There was a quiet knock at the skylight. Her heart raced in earnest again, she was already flushing. He was here. He was really here. Marinette stood on her bed and pushed the skylight open. “Chat Noir?” she whispered.

Marinette’s tongue went dry and her heart did an absolutely wild tap dance in her chest as Chat Noir’s wild blonde mane and dazzling smile appeared above her. “Good evening, Purrincess! I hope I didn’t wake you—” Marinette smiled, but her sore head throbbed and she winced. “Oh!” Chat yelped, “Shoot, I was hoping I’d heard wrong. You’re really hurt, aren’t you?”

She leaned back on her bed and Chat Noir swung inside and landed on the loft platform. He was suddenly tending to her, hands darting over her hair and her pillow, finding her cold compress and holding it to the back of her head. “Chat,” she asked, “what are you doing here?”

He shrugged as he helped her get settled into a comfortable position and he sat on the edge of her bed (Marinette tried really hard _not_ to think about how he was sitting on the edge of her bed). “I had patrol tonight, but Ladybug didn’t show up, so I thought I might swing by and check on my favorite reporter.” Marinette gasped and threw her hand over her mouth. Oh crap. It was Sunday night! Patrol night! She was supposed to be out on patrol with Chat Noir right now; she’d planned on giving him his new power-ups; they were going to do extra training… Oh she was such an idiot! She’d gotten so caught up in her own thoughts that she’d completely blanked it! It didn’t help that her phone was on the fritz, thanks to its freshly smashed screen, but how could she have forgotten? 

“I’m sorry,” she started, before realizing that she really shouldn’t be apologizing, “does Ladybug stand you up often?” It was a lousy cover-up, but it was the best she had.

“No,” he responded simply, looking at her intensely, “I’m sure she just got detained. I’ll see her soon, I’m sure of it.” He smiled warmly. “Hey, I heard something today… something about you…”

“Whatever it is, it’s not true,” she muttered.

He gave her a look that clearly stated he didn’t believe her, “Nice try. I have a connection with the police, you know. This,” he waved a hand over his costume, “has its perks.”

“Oh,” she responded, “so, I guess I can’t pretend I wasn’t accosted by an angry mob this morning that thought we were dating.”

He shuffled on the bed a bit, getting closer so he could hold the compress against her head even more firmly, “No, you can’t pretend that didn’t happen.”

“Can I pretend it wasn’t that big of a deal?”

He moved the compress back and evaluated the size of the lump on her head, “Nope, you can’t pretend that either.”

“Well, what can I pretend?”

“I don’t want you to pretend anything, Marinette. I want you to let me take full responsibility—”

Marinette sat up and put her hand over his mouth. “Stop it, right now. I’m serious, just stop it. You’re going to apologize for being my friend and for letting me get to know you, and I’m not going to allow it. I _knew_ you were going to try something like that! I like being with you, ok, Chat? I knew there was a risk when I agreed to interview you, and I don’t care. I want to be your friend, and unless you want to jump out this skylight and never see me again, then you’re going to have to just get over the fact that people are going to butt into your personal life and we’re just going to have to figure it out, without constantly apologizing for existing!” She realized she was rambling. “That didn’t make any sense, but I don’t care. You know what I mean. I’m glad you’re in my life, Chat. I don’t regret anything from this last week, and I never will. Please, please tell me that you don’t regret hanging out with me either? I mean, I’ll get it if you do, and if you don’t want to be my friend anymore, I’ll be sad, but I’ll—”

He pulled her hand off his mouth and smiled broadly, flashing those unbelievably perfect teeth at her, “Marinette!” He stroked her cheek so softly that she melted into his hand, closing her eyes and relishing the touch, “I don’t regret being your friend either.”

“Ok then,” she whispered, “so then neither of us are going to say anything more about it.”

“Deal.” He didn’t move. The seconds ticked by in awkward silence. “Ok, I’m taking back my end of the deal.”

“What? You can’t—”

“I just need to say _one_ more thing, I swear!”

Marinette rolled her eyes, but giggled, “Alright, what is it.”

“I heard your phone got smashed in the tussle, and I wanted to apolo—I mean, I wanted to make it up to you. I… I got you something.”

Marinette sat up again, confused. “What?”

Chat Noir picked up a gift bag from the side of the bed and handed it to her. She hadn’t even noticed it when he dropped in her room. It was too dark in the room to tell what it was properly, so Marinette reached over and clicked on her bedside lamp. Chat Noir’s firm jawline was thrown into sudden relief and he blinked rapidly at the light. 

“Oh, sorry, I should have warned you before I turned on the light—”

“I didn’t even notice,” he smiled.

“That’s right,” she chuckled, “night vision.”

He grinned. “Anyway, I… I wanted you to have this.” Marinette pulled out a brand-new, top-of-the-line cellphone. The rest of the bag was filled with all the trimmings—a pair of chargers, the instruction manual, a strong, white case adorned with pink and purple flowers, and a tiny, black phone charm with an electric green paw print on it. She’d never dreamed of something this nice. A lump immediately formed in her throat.

“Chat…”

“It’s got a lot of cool features,” he piped up, “nice big memory, really high-quality camera, extra wide screen, the battery is the longest lasting in the industry…”

She slipped her fingers over her mouth, realizing her lips were trembling, “This is… this is incredible,” she whispered, fingering the smooth, perfect phone.

He smiled at her, his cat ears perking up. He’d been genuinely worried she wouldn’t like it. It was so sweet and so heartbreaking. How could she not like it? She wanted to ask him how he could afford such a gift, or how he even knew she needed a new phone, but she knew such questions led back down the same dark and dangerous rabbit hole that she’d been desperately trying to avoid only ten minutes earlier. Nope, there was only one thing to do. She took the phone and pressed it to her chest, “Thank you, thank you so much, Chat Noir. This means the world to me.”

His grin made her heart melt. “I’ve got the instruction manual here and your new plan comes with excellent customer support; they’ll help you upload all your contacts, of course.”

“My pl-plan?”

“But there’s one contact I wanted you to see,” he smiled again, taking the phone back from her and powering it up. There was a single number programmed in the contacts list, under the name ‘Your Favorite Stray.’

“Is that… is that _you_?” she gasped.

He grinned even more broadly, supremely proud of himself. His tail flicked back and forth happily. “If you ever get in a jam again, now you have a way to get a hold of me. No facing down rabid fans by yourself again, ok?”

“I thought we said we weren’t going to talk about that—”

“This falls in the same _one thing,_ so I’m in the clear.”

“You are, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Under whose rules?”

“Mine. I make the rules, I keep the rules, we’re all good.”

Marinette laughed, “You’re such a dork.”

He laughed back and stroked her hair, face going soft, “I still wish I could have been there to help you this morning.”

She took a breath, “Do you think this is wise?” She meant this—them falling in love, them touching, them meeting covertly and being together—but there went her brain again, dang it! That stupid rabbit hole was wider than she gave it credit for! Backpedaling, she added, “I mean, me interviewing you. We can call off the interviews and just be normal friends who only see each other on rare occasions.”

He let go of her hair and pulled back his hand like she’d stung him. “I… I don’t want that, Marinette.”

She swallowed. “Good, I don’t either,” she squeaked. Chat Noir leaned forward, inching closer and closer. His eyes did that soft, piercing stare that they did, and that haunting, familiar connection washed over her once more. His lips looked so perfect. Wait, she was staring at his lips! Her eyes darted back up to meet his, but then she realized with a jolt that _he_ was staring at _her_ lips as well. 

“Marinette,” he whispered. Her name sounded so good coming from those perfectly curved lips. But as the air escaped his mouth and washed over her, she was overwhelmed with his scent—the musk and mint that enveloped her in familiarity. She couldn’t deny her subconscious any longer. She _had_ to know. 

“Can I ask you a question?” she whispered; their lips still so close that they burned with desire.

“Hmm?”

“Do you have fuzzy Ladybug pajamas?”

His pupils dilated, his mask lifted with his eyebrows, and his ears flattened simultaneously. That was it. She knew. She _knew._ Heart triple timing, she grabbed his chin in her fingers and planted a fierce kiss on his lips. She let him go, snapped off her bedroom lamp and threw her covers over her head. “GoodnightChatNoirThanksForthePhone!” she panted. He didn’t move and he didn’t move and then suddenly his weight was gone from the edge of the bed and she peeked just in time to see his tail swish through the skylight and into the night.

She was just starting to catastrophize, believing she’d ruined everything, when she heard Chat Noir’s wild, excited voice fading as he obviously leapt from rooftop to rooftop, “Wahooooo!”


	11. Marinette and Marinette

There was a strange noise coming from Marinette’s nightstand. What was that? Some kind of singing? No, a voice. A familiar voice. One of her favorite voices in the world. Saying her name. “Good morning, Marinette, time to rise and shine! Good morning, Marinette, time to rise and shine!” She sat up rapidly, pulling the covers to her chest. How did _he_ get in here at this hour? Was there even oxygen in the air at this hour? Wait—what _was_ this hour?

She rubbed the blur from her eyes and looked around. Chat Noir was not in her bedroom. She sighed in relief. But then, where was his voice coming from? She finally saw the smooth phone on her nightstand. It was the source of his voice. Marinette giggled and picked up the phone; he had programmed in his own sound byte to wake her up in the morning. She vaguely wondered how many more Easter eggs she was going to find as she started using the fancy new phone. Marinette startled and tightened her grip on the impressive device. The phone. That Chat Noir had given her. That Chat Noir—that A-A-A—

Wait, was that the time? School! Marinette leapt out of bed and threw on her clothes. She was a master at getting ready on the fly, and pulled her hair back while she stuffed a croissant in her mouth and was out the front door in four minutes flat, blowing a kiss to her parents as she bolted across the street.

Something strange pulled her up short. Marinette was sidling up to Adrien, who was already in the main entrance of the school, and chatting and talking to her friends. Wait, that was impossible. She was Marinette! How could Marinette be there if she was here? Had she stayed up so late that she was having an out of body experience? Granted, she hadn’t gotten much sleep that night, thanks to one sly kitten, but—she rubbed her eyes and looked closer—no, Marinette wasn’t seeing things. That was _clearly_ Marinette Dupain-Cheng, pigtails bouncing, pink purse swinging by her hip, backpack slightly askew, running up the steps of Françoise Dupont school toward her classroom. Something was seriously wrong. Marinette raced back inside her house.

“Everything alright, honey?” her mother asked.

“No, I don’t feel well!”

“Oh dear, shall we call the school for you?”

“No! I mean, yes? I don’t know, I’m just going up to my room for a bit!” She took the stairs two at a time all the way to her bedroom and locked the door behind her. “Tikki?” she gasped, clutching at the stitch in her side.

Tikki poked her head out of Marinette’s purse. “I saw it too. What do you think it means?”

“I don’t know,” she grimaced, “An akuma seems unlikely. Maybe, maybe a sentimonster? Like that time Mayura replicated Ladybug?”

Tikki looked worried. “Do you think she’s trying to bait Chat Noir?”

Marinette swallowed hard, “If it’s really a sentimonster—and I can’t think of anything else it could be—that’s a real possibility. Either way, you know what we have to do.” Tikki nodded resolutely. “Tikki, spots on!”

Transforming was different today. Marinette had grown accustomed to the way her limbs stretched and strengthened as Tikki was sucked into her earrings, but today was doubly, no, triply so. “Whoa!” she yelped as her suit wrapped her body, surprised by the overwhelming power she now possessed. She briefly wondered if Tikki had powered-up before the transformation, but no, she was sure everything was normal. Ladybug would have spent more time examining herself and testing this new unusual strength, but she was worried about her classmates and whatever was happening with that strange doppelgänger currently buddying up to Adrien. She did, however, grab the box of power-up laced cheese for Plagg and tucked it in her yo-yo. She ignored the backflip her stomach did just thinking about her partner, about him visiting her just a few hours earlier, kissing him, her A-A-A--

“Marinette, honey?” her mother knocked sharply on her door.

“Uh,” Ladybug squeaked, “I’m not dressed!”

“I called the school; they said you were already there. What’s going on, sweetheart?”

“Nothing,” Ladybug lied, “I’ll be out in a minute! Love you!” She hoped that was good enough. She really didn’t have time to detransform and talk to her mother. She aimed her yo-yo at the skylight above her, popped it open, and flew in one wide arc to the school roof top next door. The strength of her limbs surprised her, and she almost overshot her landing. “Wow, Ladybug, settle down! No need to use all your strength at once!” she whispered to herself, creeping forward to the edge of the rooftop to peek in the courtyard.

“You noticed it too?” Chat Noir’s voice said from beside her. 

She jumped. She always jumped, even though she knew she should expect him to be there every time. “Oh, Chat! You’re already here!”

He smiled and ran his fingers through his hair, “Yeah, something weird was happening here and I came right away.”

Of course he did. He always did. She couldn’t think of a single time when Chat Noir didn’t show up. He’d been late once or twice. But, her stomach twisted, that was when A-A-A… well, he’d been detained. She blinked a few times as she looked at him, and suddenly all she could see was one person, two halves of a perfect whole—the boy she’d fallen in love with twice. “You’re here,” she whispered stupidly.

He snickered, “Yep, still here.”

“Oh!” she gasped, coming to herself, “Akuma!”

“Ladybug, are you feeling ok?” The concern on his face was adorable. Focus, Marinette, FOCUS! 

“Yep, just fine. Sorry, had a late night. I… I’m so sorry I missed patrol—”

He held up his hand, “No worries. Right now, let’s focus on the problem at hand, shall we?”

She nodded. They both jumped to the lower floor and snuck towards Mme. Bustier’s classroom, poking their heads up just enough to see inside. Marinette Dupain-Cheng looked like she was participating in class. In fact, she was currently standing in her place, explaining something, and everyone in the room was paying her rapt attention.

“That’s not Marinette,” Chat whispered with an edge to his voice.

She bit her lip and looked at him, “How do you know?”

He swallowed, looked at the Marinette in the classroom and back to her, “I just do, ok?”

“Well,” Ladybug detoured, “what do you think it is?”

“Sentimonster,” he answered definitively. “Like the Ladybug sentimonster we faced last spring.”

She nodded, “I agree. It’s not being destructive—”

“Yet,” he added gravely.

“But we should still handle with caution. If that’s a sentimonster, it means Mayura’s got to be close by. And we have no idea if there’s a concurrent akuma somewhere, or what the bigger plot is.”

“I’m pretty sure I know what they’re planning,” he spat.

“What?”

“They’re using a decoy to get to me.” His face was filled with a rage Ladybug had never seen before.

“Chat—”

“They knew I was getting closer to Marinette and they’re trying to use her to get to me.”

“I know,” Ladybug smiled, trying to lessen his pain, or at least distract him, “how about I go check on Marinette while you try to find Mayura—”

He shook his head, “If it’s me they’re trying to bait, it’s working.”

“Chat Noir,” she hissed, “snap out of it! Marinette’s safe, I’m sure of it!”

He turned slowly to look at her, and in an increasingly common moment, they shared something, some untold knowledge. She wondered if he knew what she knew. She didn’t flinch, she didn’t blink—she wanted him to know. She wanted him to understand that she knew as well.

“Whatever we do,” she added quietly, “we’ll do it together, ok?”

“Ok,” he agreed, and opened his palm to her. She slapped her hand in his and closed her fingers around his. A jolt of pure power zipped across her arms and into her chest.

“Whoa!” they both gasped simultaneously, then looked at each other, “you felt that too?” Then, the two both dissolved into laughter.

“I don’t know what’s going on today,” Ladybug admitted, looking at their hands and still feeling the surge of strength.

“But it’s incredible,” he finished her sentence. They smiled and nodded at each other, then stood and threw the classroom door open.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Ladybug announced.

“But we’re going to need to have a word with whoever _that_ is,” Chat Noir declared, pointing at the fake Marinette.

“What, me?” the sentimonster grinned, “Though, I can’t say I’m sad to see you, Chat Noir. I’ve missed you.” Her voice was like silk. Ladybug wondered vaguely if she could actually make her voice that smooth. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he responded flatly, “I’ve never met _you_ in my life.”

“Come now, don’t be that way—remember that romantic breakfast on the bell tower?”

“That was Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” he retorted hotly, “not you, whatever you are.”

The class gasped as they watched the interaction. Ladybug threw her yo-yo, which wrapped around Marinette’s arms and waist. “Come with us, you sentimonster! We’re going to find your creator, Mayura!”

“Chat Noir!” the fake Marinette screamed, “She’s hurting me! Chat Noir, help!”

If Ladybug had ever doubted her partner before, he proved himself now. He reached over and grabbed the yo-yo string so that the fake Marinette zoomed into his arms, tossed her over his shoulder, and marched out of the classroom. Ladybug paused only long enough to say, “It’s ok, we’ll get this taken care of!” to her stunned classmates before hurrying to catch up with Chat Noir.

Once in the courtyard, the fake Marinette put up a real fight. She kicked Chat Noir in the stomach hard enough that he dropped her, and she wormed out of the yo-yo string still wrapped around her midsection. Suddenly, she was racing toward Ladybug, and the two began hand-to-hand combat. 

“I still want to know how you knew she was a fake,” Ladybug laughed while boxing back her lookalike. 

Chat Noir laughed and jumped into the fight alongside his partner, “It was several things, really,” he said as Marinette did a backflip and started dueling both simultaneously. “The biggest of which—she didn’t smell right.”

Ladybug gasped, “Smell right? You mean… you _smell_ Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

His eyebrows knit under his mask defensively, “Well… not intentionally…” The sentimonster did an impressive backflip and landed a kick to Chat Noir’s chin and he reeled back in pain and alarm. “Hey,” he grumbled, “that was _not_ very ladylike!”

Ladybug giggled, “That’s because _I’m_ your only lady.” Then, realizing what she’d just said, she blushed and clasped her hand over her mouth.

Chat Noir gawked at her, then puffed his chest in pride, “That’s right! You are my only lady!”

Ladybug’s cheeks were as red as her mask, “No! Forget I said that!”

Fake Marinette growled, launching herself at the superhero duo, “You’re not supposed to love her, you’re supposed to love me!” Ladybug rolled her eyes.

“Puh-lease,” she gagged, taking the volley of hits the sentimonster was throwing, “Marinette is never that sappy. If there were still any doubts as to what this impostor is, that just squashed them.”

“I dunno,” Chat Noir winked, rejoining the fray, “she _is_ pretty cute… But, you’re right. It’s you. It’s always been you.”

He turned those soul-piercing eyes on her, as he had done so many times when she was sans-mask, and her heart stammered. Something clicked—he knew. Just as she knew, he knew. Blood rushed through her ears—her identity, his identity, their future, the fate of the Miraculous, everything—Ladybug tripped over her yo-yo string and Chat Noir caught her before she hit the ground. The same unbelievable power that had pulsed through them before electrified her again. As blue eyes met green, and two sets of eyebrows softened, neither could prevent the smiles of perfect synchronicity from stretching across their faces. No matter what they knew, _this_ was right. This was how it was always supposed to be. They spun together and attacked as one, powering back the surprisingly strong sentimonster. 

They had fake-Marinette cornered. Of course, it wouldn’t do much good to overpower her if they couldn’t find the amok, and since they had no akuma around to control it, they figured it must be Mayura herself. As if he read her mind, Chat Noir smirked, “I’ll keep this one cornered—you go find Mayura!”

Ladybug gave him a reassuring smile, hoping he understood that she wasn’t upset, that they’d figure this out together. She tossed her yo-yo to the edge of the roof and pulled herself up to a higher vantage point, determined to find Mayura and, hopefully, cut her down to size.


	12. Plausible Deniability

“Ladybug.” The word was a threat.

“Mayura.” Two people could play this game. “Drop the amok.”

“Aw, whatever for? We’re all having so much fun!”

“You know you’re just going to lose again,” Ladybug growled.

“If you’re so confident, how come you’re stalling?”

“Just trying to give you the opportunity to make the right choice.”

Mayura laughed mirthlessly as the two slowly circled each other on the school roof. “Have you ever thought that it’s _you_ who are on the wrong side?”

Ladybug pondered momentarily, spinning her yo-yo ominously, “Yes.” Mayura seemed genuinely surprised and let Ladybug continue, “I’ve wondered about your motivations so many times, and wondered about my own as well. But it comes down to this—whatever twisted reason you have, you can’t target innocent people, especially when they’re at their lowest moment and most in need of love, and use them to terrorize Paris over and over, and be on the right side. You know what the hardest part of being Ladybug is? Explaining to your victims what just happened. They are always so ashamed of themselves, as if they did something wrong by having normal feelings. What you and Hawkmoth do is sick and cruel and I will never, _ever_ stop fighting against you.”

Mayura sneered and launched herself toward Ladybug, her fan flashing. Ladybug suddenly felt a sharp pain on her forearm and looked down—apparently the fan had bladed sides, because there was a fresh gash sprouting a current of hot red blood that dripped off her elbow. Oh, she was going to fight dirty, was she? Well. In that case. “Lucky Charm!” Ladybug called, and incredibly, a toolbelt, stuffed to the gills with a random assortment of objects, fell into her arms. Ladybug wrapped it around her waist, picked up the first item (a pair of pliers) and started fighting the blue-tinted supervillain. Mayura seemed shocked as Ladybug landed blow after blow, utilizing tool after tool in increasingly clever attacks. Ladybug always had the exact right tool for the job, and Mayura’s pursed lips slowly distorted into a hard line of frustration. This fight was _not_ going her way. At one point, Ladybug threw a length of rope over the ledge of the school roof, simply because she knew it to be the right thing to do. Mayura was shaking. Good. She should be.

Chat Noir flew over the edge of the roof with a wild and beautiful smile. “Thanks for the rope, LB,” he laughed, tossing his golden mane out of his face. “It was the perfect tool for the job.”

“Always is,” she laughed back. “Unless I need your—”

“Cataclysm!” he cried, his claws slashing through the air. He tapped the ground below him, but instead of widespread destruction, it was very smooth and targeted. A line of black decay started at him and zipped toward Mayura like a lit fuse heading toward a bundle of TNT. It circled around her and she fell through to the open terrace below, not far from where Chat Noir had tied up senti-Marinette. Mayura screamed in frustration, throwing her fan again. Ladybug and Chat Noir both raced toward her, staff and yo-yo flying in tandem. Ladybug’s tool belt came in incredibly handy, but Mayura was a force to be reckoned with. Her fan did nearly as much damage as Ladybug and Chat Noir combined, and Mayura’s dexterity and smooth fighting style made a frontal assault nearly impossible.

“Whoa,” Chat Noir suddenly yelled, surprising Ladybug.

“What is it?” she cried, blocking a blow from Mayura by arching her back until her hair brushed the ground.

“I just… let me check something…” he muttered, then hesitantly whispered, “Cataclysm?” His hand erupted in bubbling black energy. “Sweet!” He raced forward and snatched the fan out of the air, disintegrating it. 

“Whoa!” Ladybug echoed his sentiment from before. “You didn’t recharge! You just—you used cataclysm twice!”

He shot her a wicked grin, “Watch this. CATACLYSM!” A third time, Chat Noir’s hand came alive and he brought a portion of the roof down, blocking the space between them and Mayura.

“Watch out, Kitty,” Ladybug tried to warn through her laugh (he really was incredibly cute, even if he was destroying more than he should), “we still need to be able to access our opponent.”

“This is amazing!” he laughed, calling up another cataclysm to tear through the debris between themselves and Mayura.

“Chat, here!” she called, throwing one of the tools from her belt to him (a spoon). Mayura was now visible again, and clearly concerned at how the tables had turned against her favor. She launched a new attack at them, using a powerful blast of air from her fan to spray rubble at them. As Ladybug and Chat Noir both spun their respective tools to shield off the projectiles, Chat noticed a beam over his head in the reflection of the spoon. He grinned at Ladybug, who encouraged him with a little nod, and he tapped the beam. It disintegrated in a perfect pattern to drop a ring of roof around Mayura, trapping her in place.

“Since when could you two use your powers multiple times?” she growled.

Ladybug and Chat Noir looked at each other, smirked knowingly, and then turned back to the older supervillain. “Since now,” Ladybug shrugged. 

“Maybe you ought to rethink your choice of career, Mayura,” Chat Noir teased in his classic style, and snapped his fingers just to watch them bubble to life again. He guffawed dopily before turning on Mayura once more, “Being bested by a couple teenagers doesn’t look very good on a resume.”

Mayura looked conflicted. She’d never been one to back down from a fight, except perhaps the one time she collapsed, but this time, she knew she was outnumbered and outgunned. Ladybug started fishing in her tool belt for another item—she still had plenty to choose from. Mayura growled, dropped the small pink purse she had in her hand, and bolted over the debris. Chat Noir dove on the purse, which released a black and purple feather as it disintegrated. 

“Want me to go after her while you clean up?” he asked. 

Ladybug shrugged, “Probably wise.”

Chat Noir tore off in the direction Mayura had gone, even though both of them instinctively knew that she detransform the second she was out of sight, and would be impossible to spot by now. Ladybug purified the amok and called up her Miraculous Ladybug. Not only was the school repaired and her bleeding arm healed, but the sparkling ladybugs danced over her body a particularly long time, making her feel fresh and alive and strong. It seemed to be doing more than just healing, but rather empowering. When the sparkly bugs disappeared, the white amok still hung around. Interested, Ladybug reached out and scooped it up in her hands. The contact was… unexpected.

* * *

A memory flashed before her vision. A voice coming from above her was calling “Spread my feathers!” and then the magic blinded her view. There was a pair of blue-tinted hands, caressing an ornate feather fan. “We’ll lure him out with this new love of his. He was foolish enough to tell the world about her? We can use that to our advantage.”

Another voice was there and Mayura looked up at him—at Hawkmoth, in his purple suit, the steel-lavender mask wrapped over his eyes and jaw. “Once you’ve lured them in with the sentimonster, I’ll akumatize Chat Noir. It will be easy, once he sees how fickle young love can be.”

“Excellent plan. Now,” Mayura whispered, plucking a feather from the fan, then wrapping it in her hand and pouring her malice and desire into it, “fly away, beautiful amok, and entrap them once and for all!”

The memory followed the flight of the feather toward the pink purse, where it nestled into its home and created a new creature that looked exactly like Marinette. The new sentimonster, still controlled by Mayura, made its way to the school and was prepared to incapacitate the real Marinette, should she arrive. She never did. Mayura wasn’t concerned—that made this easier for her. It might be a long, tedious day, Mayura noted. Waiting around for Chat Noir to come to Marinette wasn’t ideal, but if they were to avoid suspicion, this was the way to do it. And if Mayura had any qualm with her beloved partner, it was that he frequently moved too quickly and made rash decisions that led to pathetic akumas with no real purpose other than to vent his frustration. He needed her badly, didn’t he? He needed her wisdom and her focus. So, Mayura waited on the roof, watching and listening, as the sentimonster under her control convinced the Ladyblogger to help her set up a lunchtime interview with Chat Noir. All was going according to plan. The Miraculouses would be theirs by sunset. This was it, this was the last time.

Until Ladybug and Chat Noir burst through the classroom door and took her by surprise. How did they know? Oh well, it was now time to fight.

The remainder of the vision went in fast-forward—not anything new, just from a different angle. Ladybug and Chat Noir fought the sentimonster until Chat Noir pinned it up against the wall. Once it was useless, it stood there, waiting for new orders, until, without fanfare, its tether to life was severed and it slipped away into the nothingness from which it had sprung.

* * *

Ladybug gasped and released the white amok, which now evaporated. 

“What was that?” Chat Noir’s voice panted beside her. She blinked and looked at him. “Oh,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “Mayura got away, as expected. But when I got back, you were standing here, transfixed. Only for a second, but… you ok?”

Ladybug looked around. The whole school was there, watching them. She gave a meaningful look to Chat Noir, who nodded once in understanding. She needed to talk about this to him in depth, but here was not the right time nor place. Instead, he held out his fist, muttered, “Bell tower,” then cried in his most showy way, “Pound it!”

The crowd of students cheered. Ladybug zipped off in a different direction than Chat Noir, but a few minutes later they both landed in the same location, hidden from view. The sun was fully up, but the happy little fountain babbled away below them and they both looked at each other in wonder.

She remembered something important. “Before I do anything else,” Ladybug said firmly, opening her yo-yo, “I _have_ to give you this. A new set of power-ups.” She handed the box of multicolored cheese to Chat Noir. He smiled and looked over the options she’d included. “Though, if today is any indication, we might not need them as badly as I thought we would.”

“Ok, tell me _everything,_ ” Chat Noir said, leaning against the empty window frame of the bell tower. 

Ladybug took a deep breath, “Today. That fight. Our powers. That was…”

He leaned in, smiling, “Intimate?”

She punched him on the shoulder. “Don’t use that stupid word!” He laughed. But he was right. It was the perfect word. Not in the romantic sense, no, but in their connection, their sudden boost in powers. “I have to tell you about something I learned about Kwami,” Ladybug sighed. “A week or so ago, when we faced that jungle akuma-slash-sentimonster combo that was so hard, I talked to Wayzz and Tikki.”

Chat Noir smiled and repressed a laugh. Ladybug paused. “Sorry,” he excused himself, “I still get a kick out of you hanging out with the kwami. I know you’re the guardian now, and it probably comes with the territory, but it still is a funny thing to imagine. Continue.”

She rolled her eyes playfully before pressing on, “We were talking about how much stronger Mayura has gotten in the months since I became the guardian. I was duly concerned, as I told you.” He nodded. “Tikki got kind of emotional about it, and when I asked her why, she let me know that some Kwami are connected with each other.”

Chat Noir made a surprised and quasi-disgusted face, “Wait, connected? Like—”

She held up a hand, cutting him off, “No no, not like that. It’s a loving partnership, but it’s not like human love. At least, that’s how Wayzz explained it. The magic is amplified and strengthened when the Kwami are allowed to connect, and to connect, they have to spend time together. Nooroo and Duusu are one such companionship, and while that means that the more time Hawkmoth and Mayura spend together, the stronger they’ll become, Tikki couldn’t be angry about it because it means Nooroo and Duusu are happier.”

Chat Noir pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Makes sense. I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it.”

“That’s how I felt too, even though Wayzz thought it was silly.”

“Why did Wayzz think it was silly?”

“Because Wayzz doesn’t have a companion.” 

“Oh,” Chat Noir pondered. “Wait, but Tikki—sweet Tikki, the couple times I’ve met her, I can totally see her being all love-stricken over something like this—she knew and she understood the reason behind Mayura’s strengthening powers? Does that mean…?”

“She has a companion kwami? Yes.” 

Chat Noir’s eyes brightened with understanding. He thumbed his ring. “Two guesses who,” he muttered. 

Ladybug nodded and sighed, “The first guess doesn’t count.” That was all the confirmation Chat Noir needed. “So,” she realized she needed to be very careful about how she said this next bit, “I came up with a plan for the two of us to get closer, so that our kwami could have time to connect.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh Bugaboo, all you would have needed to do was ask me and we could have set up a partition or something.”

She hadn’t thought of that. She felt stupid, but she’d never thought of that. “Well,” she muttered defensively, “Tikki didn’t want me to make a big deal of it. She said that she didn’t want to push us in any which way.”

Chat Noir chuckled, “Typical Tikki.” He gratefully skipped over the events of the last week, so the finer points of Ladybug’s plan remained a mystery. “So, today’s connection, today’s power… our kwami must have had a chance to connect…”

Ladybug looked up at his intense green eyes and nodded, “But then again, we didn’t need to say that out loud. We both knew.”

He nodded. “Yes, we both knew all along.” The air suddenly vibrated with the intensity between them. He leaned closer, drawn to her as she was drawn to him, but he bit his lip and hesitated. “Tell me about the amok at the end there.”

She pulled herself out of the energy radiating around them so she could focus, “Yeah, that was unexpected. And weird. Normally the amok or the akuma just kind of fly away to… wherever they go. But not this time. It was hanging around, waiting for me. When I touched it, I saw its memories. I saw Mayura right after transforming, I saw her power up the amok and create the sentimonster… Chat Noir,” she whispered, realization dawning on her at the same time she spoke it out loud to her partner, “I saw Hawkmoth and Mayura plotting to use the sentimonster Marinette to get to you in an attempt to akumatize you. I heard their plans!”

He was stunned, “You saw Mayura transform? You saw her face?”

“No,” she clarified, “I saw her right after she transformed, but still…”

“Still…” he picked up where she left off, then her favorite smile rent his face, “Ladybug, do you know what this means? We have an insight into Hawkmoth’s lair! We have a chance to find out their motivations, what they’re planning to do… this is incredible information! We can use this to find them, get their Miraculouses back… We can use this to _win!_ ”

Ladybug shivered with anticipation, “You’re right! In all this time, we’ve had to play defense against Hawkmoth and Mayura, but this… this changes things!” He hugged her and she hugged him back, the two twirling around each other in excitement. Then, realizing their closeness, he set her down and they both scrambled backwards, blushing furiously. “But, hang on,” she puzzled, “what if it was a one-time deal? What if… what if that’s all the insight we’ll get?”

He leaned back and surveyed her, “What does your gut tell you?”

She felt drawn to him, that was for sure. No, she _loved_ him. She wanted to be with him every moment of every day, fighting by his side and learning and growing together. She didn’t know about her powers or what the future would hold, but she knew that this amazing person in front of her was the love of her life. “I think… I think we shouldn’t leave it up to chance. I think we need to give our kwami as much connection time as possible.” Then, that famous buzzkill of self-doubt crept up, and she tacked on, “Right?”

He was suddenly centimeters away from her, looking down, his musk-and-mint scent washing over her, his soft eyes piercing her soul, “I totally agree. Who knows what the future will bring and how long it will take us, but I’m certain we’ll get Mayura and Hawkmoth someday. It’s only a matter of time now.”

She nodded, even though there was still a serious problem nagging at her. “But,” she whimpered, the most important rules of heroing blaring through her skull like a fire alarm, “it’s not safe for our identities. I mean, as we saw here today with the sentimonster, they’re always going to try to use the ones we love against us. I could never do that to you. I… I’m in love with you, A-A-A—” 

He pressed a finger to her lips, “Our identities must remain a secret—we both know how important that is, and I would never want to endanger you either. So, we won’t say it out loud. Just call it plausible deniability. But, for what it’s worth, I’m in love with you as well, Ma-Ma-Milady.” 

His finger slipped away from her mouth, but only by a few centimeters, where it traced the edge of her jaw. He was right, of course. If they didn’t say it out loud, then there would always be that hint of doubt that would serve as their shield and protection. She smiled softly at him, trying to thank him for the brilliance and simplicity of it all, because, when it came down to it, it was simple. He _loved_ her! And she loved him! They loved each other! She leaned up on her tiptoes, unable to deny the connection they shared any longer, and kissed him passionately. He pulled her closer, returning the kiss, and the two of them felt the magic buzzing through their closeness, bringing them both home at last.


	13. In the camembert box

Plagg licked the inside of his camembert box until it smelled more like saliva than camembert. “Ok, it’s clean now,” he promised Tikki quietly. 

“No way, not a chance,” she growled.

“Come _on_ Sugarcube, I said it’s clean!”

“You disgust me.”

He laughed and curled up inside his camembert box. “I’m not nearly as disgusting as those two; they’ve been at it for hours!” Tikki peeked over the edge of the shelf to see Adrien and Marinette, snuggled up on her chaise lounge, engaged in a noisy video game. 

“They have _not,_ ” TIkki countered with a pout, “they only started the game thirty minutes ago. Before that, Marinette was sewing and Adrien was reading out loud from their literature assignment, and that’s homework.”

“Semantics,” Plagg grumbled. “It’s all a bunch of mushy human romance, no matter how you slice it.”

“It’s sweet,” Tikki insisted, watching Marinette do a cute little victory dance. Plagg wasn’t impressed. 

“Well, we have more than enough time to join them in their cuddling, you know.” Plagg grinned wickedly and stretched out his paws for Tikki. 

She frowned, flew down carefully to avoid being spotted by Adrien, and grabbed a macaron from the box on Marinette’s desk. She flew back up to their hidden little perch and rubbed the macaron all over Plagg’s camembert box, ate half, and then propped the other half to become her personal pillow. “There, that’ll have to do,” she sighed, placing her head on the confection and allowing Plagg to wrap his tail around her leg. He started purring contentedly as he snuggled into her stomach. 

“Admit it, you love it when our owners get close enough that we can do this on the regular.”

She giggled, “You’re asking _me_ to admit it? I admit it every day! It’s _you_ who insists that it’s disgusting when we all know you adore it.”

“I adore what it does for our powers,” he clarified. “As soon as my kitten gets to cataclysm everything and anything, we start having a lot more fun. And overcoming that stupid five-minute countdown is so much better for my personal health.”

Tikki laughed, “I know what you mean. Although, with the way Marinette’s macarons taste, I may… conveniently ignore the fact that I won’t need to eat immediately after she chooses to detransform…”

“Tikki,” Plagg fake-gasped, “are you planning on _lying_ to Ladybug? I’m aghast… I’m shocked…I’m proud beyond words!” He nuzzled her cheek and she giggled. He loved making her giggle. 

“Stop it, Plagg, that tickles! 

He tickled her more until she was squirming and begging for him to let her be. When he at last relented, they both quieted into a little ball of contentment. Their magic strengthened as he touched her, and soon a soft red-and-green bubbly glow popped around them. Plagg’s purr ramped up as the magic swirled between his companion and himself. After several minutes, Tikki took another peek over the edge of the camembert box.

“Oh,” she sighed with hearts in her eyes, “they’re kissing!”

“Tikki,” Plagg moaned, “give them a little peace, would you?”

She rolled her eyes, “If I gave them peace, it would have taken ages for them to get together.”

“We both know they’d have gotten there on their own just fine.”

“Come now, Plagg, the interviews were as much your idea as they were mine. Don’t even try to deny it. I have a perfect recollection of your coy little plot to convince them to spend time together.”

He shrugged, “I don’t deny it. To you, at least. I was sick and tired of watching them dance around each other. Adrien was too blind to see Marinette, and Marinette was too blind to see Chat.” He scratched his ear, then grinned as Tikki took the hint and started scratching it for him. The green and red bubbles popped faster, similarly to how Plagg’s cataclysm looked, if it were combined with Tikki’s magic ladybugs. Plagg grinned and continued, “It was really the only way to get them to see each other’s better half. Or, at least it was the only angle we hadn’t tried.”

She chuckled, making sure to scratch his favorite spot extra-hard. “You’re right.”

“Like always.”

She shoved him and he phased through the side of the camembert box, before zipping back around and crossing his arms and pouting. She rolled her eyes and giggled, “You deserved that, don’t even give me that look.”

“Oh yeah? And what look _should_ I give you?” Plagg wagged his eyebrows. 

She sighed, “Just come here and do some more of that purring and let me enjoy this moment.”

He laughed and curled up next to Tikki once again, his purr warming both of them in a bath of green and red, until she dozed off in his arms.

* * *

The End


End file.
